Blood Lust
by The Dabbler
Summary: "The man who hated me even more than Voldemort is walking around sucking blood! Not only that, but he somehow managed to choose me as his personal blood donor!" HPDM Slash Rated M for sexual content. Some comic relief!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: This work is hereby disclaimed!

**Warnings**: Squicky use of blood. Mature content and improbably situations. Some bad language and bad mouthing politicians. EWE. Work in Progress.

**Pairings**: HP/DM, HP/SS, SS/DM, RWHG

**Summary**: Life never gives Harry a break.

**Rating**: M

**Author's Note**: I very much dislike vampires and vampire stories. I was forced to read _Twilight_ **and**_ Dead Until Dark _as well as watch _True Blood_ season one all within year for class. It was a torture unlike any other and spawned this obnoxious excuse for a story. In a flight from sanity, I typed my fingers to the bone and came up with this, rather long and terrible, concept for a fanfiction. Good luck with the ensuing craziness. A word to the wise: Vampires do not sparkle.

Blood Lust

.I.

Day One

June 2nd

Eyes opened in the darkness. Long pale hands came up, touching smooth cold wood delicately with questing fingertips. The fingers danced over the smooth surface, scrunching into obtuse corners and flittering down onto padded sides. Those blinded eyes narrowed in annoyance while the hands, now sure and steady pressed flat against wooden panels and pushed upwards. There was a crack, a faint scent of dirt accompanied by a thin trickle. Shoulders flexed, muscles bunched and strained until either the body or earth gave in. The compacted soil shifted and broke apart a fraction more and stilled. The arms tensed for a moment, as if defeated but they contracted again and the wooden panels split in two, dirt pouring in the new opening, claiming the space.

The earth gave in, yielding to the new cavity open in its heart, parting gratefully, even joyfully, as the figure rose up out of it.

Black eyes glinted in the night, activating with faraway street lamps and the crescent moon shinning above. A dull thud, oddly attractive in sound, warmed a pair of ears. A copper scent mingled with the earthy soil from the freshly turned grave tickled a nose, drawing it in a way food has never managed. A slow pivot of two booted feet turned the body effortlessly and the gentle flutter of hem swished against the ankles pleasantly. Black eyes lit upon a slight movement and keen ears picked up the uneven footfalls of someone walking this way. The mouth split open and slightly yellowed teeth flashed in the near pitch dark. The slightly crooked teeth were disrupted, mutinous in their shape by two long protruding fangs.


	2. Chapter 2

.II.

Harry Potter, age seventeen, stood in attendance for yet another funeral. Ron and Hermione stood beside him in silence as yet another casket was lowered into the ground. Just declared adults, the three have attended and participated in more funerals than most people under the age of seventy. This was just one more way in which the war, over not even a month ago, has aged them well past their years.

Yet another word of blessing, yet another body which is interred, yet another friend which was lost forever.

The crowd, heavy with mourning, gradually dispersed. Harry followed, flanked by his two close friends. This was the hardest graveside he stood by so far. It wasn't just a single body going into the earth, but two. One of which was the last connection he had to his dead parents. Remus and Nymphadora Lupin lay in the disturbed earth, leaving little to their legacy except an infant son only months old. Much younger than Harry was when he lost his parents.

Harry looked back at the grave where Andromeda Tonks still stood. In her arms lay Teddy Lupin, asleep but fidgeting as if he felt the sorrow which permeated the air.

He should go back and ask her if he could help with anything. There was an open house held at the Burrow and he should ask if she would like him to go there with her, taking care of Teddy and doing the duty of a Godfather. He should, but he wouldn't.

He wasn't going to the Burrow for cakes and tea and reminiscing. He wouldn't be there when shots of firewhiskey were handed out to toast the deceased. He wouldn't be there to see Teddy laugh out loud for the first time as everyone around him breaks down into tears at a sight his parents would never see. Harry wouldn't be there for any of it because to everyone else, he wasn't here. He hadn't been to the funeral, or any of the funerals over the past month. For all the public knew, Harry Potter was under complete house arrest, pending trial for crimes committed throughout the previous year; Impersonating civilians, breaking and entering private and political property, defacing public property, exposure of magic to muggles were only a few of the crimes he was being charged with. Also included was a rather lengthy descriptions of the unforgivable he used. This list was released in the Daily Prophet three weeks ago, only two days after the final battle.

When the paper came out, Harry was still in the Hogwarts infirmary and being treated for magical exhaustion. In the early hours of the morning, before the news was allowed to spread throughout the magical community, Kingsley Shackbolt entered the solemn infirmary and approached Harry's bedside at the far end of the wing. With a flick of his wand, the cloth partition enclosed the bed, patient and visitor in privacy.

"Harry." Kingsley greeted, sitting in the small plastic chair beside the bed.

"Minister." Harry replied, giving a small smile which was tainted by sorrow and fatigue.

Kingsley nodded in way of recognition for his new title. He pulled a newspaper from his pocket and handed it to Harry who looked at the title in confusion. It read: _Harry Potter, Defeater of He Who Must Not Be Named and Saviour of the Wizarding World Under House Arrest Pending Trial._ Harry's eyes skimmed the article, only taking in a few points of why he was being charged for crimes that were not counted in times of war. He looked up at the Minister, mouth opening to question.

He stopped, realizing that Kingsley was smiling, grinning actually, at the shock on the younger wizards face. "What? I don't understand, Minister-"

"Please, Harry. To you, in private, I am Kingsley not 'Minister.'" To himself he muttered, "It'll take long enough to get used to strangers calling me that rather than Auror, never mind close friends." He shook his head. "Well, Harry. It's my belief that you need a break. While these charges are real enough and come from certain members of the wizengamot, it was already decided that that for services to the Wizarding World, you will be released from all crimes commited in the past and awarded the Order of Merlin First Class." Kingsley paused and smiled down at Harry. "But that will have to wait. Presently, it was also decided to keep you isolated from the public in the pretence of being under house arrest, giving you the time you need to recover from your injuries and time to mourn loved ones. Will that suffice for now?"

Harry gapped like a fish out of water, his mouth closing and opening as he thought of what to say. He was given a chance to sit back and rest, not having to worry about anything for as long as he needs. It couldn't be true. But it was. Here, sitting beside his bed was the temporarily proclaimed Minister of Magic offering Harry a way to rest without pressure from the citizens who have already started demanding appearances from their saviour.

Harry sighed the sigh of a man allowed to finally sleep after days of being denied. He looked up at Kingsley and nodded, too relieved to say anything at all.

Kingsley grinned. "Excellent. We'll have you moved to Grimmauld Place later this morning and when you're there, wards will be set, keeping undesirables out. You will be free to come and go as you please, just be cautious and don't allow anyone to see you."

"Ok." Harry gulped, throat so dry the sound was nearly inaudible.

He had been in Grimmauld ever since, sneaking out with his invisibility cloak to attend funerals while everyone except for a very select few believing that he was incarcerated unfairly and made to wait for a trial just like the lowest, scabbiest deatheater.

A hand gently touched his shoulder through the cloak and Harry turned to find Hermione looking at him. "Ron?" she asked quietly. "Are you ready to go?"

Ron, just on the other side of Harry, answered, "Yeah. Yeah let's go. Mum can wait a bit longer to see us." Harry felt relief as his two friends nodded as if at each other and disapparated. Harry followed behind, feeling the wards part for him as he landed in the entrance hall. He swiped off his cloak and opened the front door with a flourish. The couple crowded in, throwing robes soaked from the pouring rain on to a bench just inside the door where they disappeared with a POP.

They made their way to the library, the only room on the ground level that had places to sit, a warm fire roaring in the fireplace and a large bay window showing the gray skies and rain through water streaked panes. Harry collapsed in an overstuffed chair, sinking into the embrace comfortably as Ron and Hermione settled on the loveseat touching from shoulder to knee but nowhere else. Harry watched appreciably as his two friends touched and reacted to each other through seemingly unconscious movements. Theirs was an easy relationship, Harry supposed. They had been friends for nearly seven years before finally admitting their feelings for each other. From the time of the final battle, Ron and Hermione fell into an effortless bond. Sure, they still fought and their arguments were still legendary but it was clear that they belonged only to each other and no one else. Harry only wished that he could have what his friends were so fortunate to find. Ginny was-

He couldn't think about Ginny. She was... Harry sighed.

"So." Ron started then seemed to think better of it. He chewed his bottom lip and looked at Hermione.

She was staring at Harry, her head slightly tilted. Harry had the overwhelming feeling that she was trying to read his mind. Though it was useless, he tried to Occlude, his eyes crossing slightly with effort. "Oh Harry." She said finally, shaking her head sadly, as if she had gleamed something from his mind. "Have you thought more of what Mrs. Tonks had wanted?"

Andromeda "Andy" Tonks had approached Harry well before the funeral asking if Harry would like to move in with her and Teddy once he was able to go out again in public freely. The hope and sincerity shinning in her eyes made Harry hesitate from his automatic 'no thanks.' She had lost her husband, daughter and son-in-law within a very short period of time, something that Harry wasn't so sure she could survive if it wasn't for Teddy. She shouldn't be alone. But also, for that reason, Harry was hesitant to say yes. Right now, Teddy needed her, and as long as she was needed, and loved, she couldn't give in to her sorrow. Harry was in no way capable of caring for such a small child. Sure, the money wasn't an issue but he needed Andy to still be there for Teddy.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know what to do," he said, embarrassed that it came out as a whine. "I- I think I want to leave." He said, somewhat unsure of himself now. He caved in, curving his back so his forehead almost touched his hands.

Ron leaned forward. "What do you mean, mate?"

"I mean, I- So many people have- There- I don't think there is anything left for me here..."

"But Ginny-"

Harry looked up, his eyes shadowed and the green tainted by the stormy weather outside. "Ginny," he said, slowly and clearly, "is insane."

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, clamping one hand over her mouth and the other grasped Ron's, gripping so tightly that her knuckles were white in seconds.

He looked down again at his own interlacing fingers. It pained him to have to admit what everyone has been dancing around for a month. At first, they hoped it was just a stray curse, something that had a counter or could be healed. It wasn't bad in the first few days. It just started out innocently, a mix-up between her brothers. She mistakenly called George 'Fred' and as the only remaining twin broke down, no one noticed Ginny smiling confusedly at why everyone was so sad all of a sudden. The second incident was no less worrisome. She found a camera in the Gryffindor common room when the students returned to collect their belongings after the war and made an inconsiderate jib about Colin Creevy, one of the lost students from the battle. Luckily, Dennis wasn't in the room, having returned home to his frantic parents but Ginny didn't show any remorse.

The third time, they noticed something was wrong. It was the second night Harry was living in Grimmauld Place and it was just the four of them for dinner. Ron and Hermione vanished as soon as they finished eating, leaving Harry and Ginny sitting there so he could finally have that talk with her. Harry had taken her hand in his, smiling brightly at her.

Ginny stared, frozen at the sight of her hand in his. Suddenly, without prompt, she flung it away, screaming and crying.

"No! Nononono! You're just going to die! Everyone says so. They all say _he's_ going to kill you! You'll die, you'll die and leave me here!" Ginny took her glass and threw it at the wall with all her might, her face flushed and her red hair streaming. "How can you do that to me Harry? How could you die on me! You died, you bastard, you're gone and you're dead! You promised me Harry Potter! You promised me!"

Harry straightened from his crouch were he hid, attempting to shield his head from the flying shards of glass. "Gin, please-" her scream drowned out what he was about to say.

Ron and Hermione had come running in, trying to calm her down but it was of no use. Ron was forced to take her forcefully and apparate home to try and calm her there.

The next time she saw Harry, it was worse.

The healers, busy with the sudden influx of patients from the Battle were unable to spare much time for Ginny. When she was finally examined, a few days after the dinner, they could find nothing wrong with her. Physically she was healthy but mentally, well- the only ones who could help were mind-healers and there were precious few to spare for a young school girl.

Harry, along with Hermione, believed that Ginny's mind had snapped. They didn't know if the healers could help her when one was able to accept her as a patient. They just knew that she was not the girl she was a year ago. Something happened during that year when deatheaters were teachers and Voldemort was in charge of the ministry. The final battle must have been too much. Harry and Hermione agreed that it was something outside of magic which caused her emotional instability and moments of confusion. Though they agreed, they could not discuss it with the Weasley family. There was too much hope that she can be fixed once someone was free. They even had Bill try and see if he could locate any curses placed on her and, as a registered curse-breaker, he tried the best he could do. However, finding a curse on a living person was much more difficult that on an artefact and he found nothing.

Molly and Arthur still refused to give up.

Ron paled considerably at Harry's outburst, his freckles standing out like ink spots on his face and he shook his head in denial. "Mum said that she was getting better. She hasn't had a fit for a while."

"That's because she's completely isolated. I can almost guarantee that she would have had one at the wake if it wasn't for Charlie." Harry's voice sounded dead even to him. It was dull and lifeless, just as all their friends that they buried.

"You don't know that Harry. You don't know." Ron was still shaking his head but his grip on Hermione's had hadn't changed.

Harry met Hermione's eyes and saw that they were welled up with tears she was trying hard not to shed. "Hermione." Harry said quietly.

She sobbed and her tears overflowed, sliding down her cheeks and over her hand.

Harry sighed. "I'm beat. I'm going to bed." He announced as he stood up. "You can leave or stay if you want. Tell everyone I said hi."

He left the library silently and walked through the darkening house. Kreacher had yet to light the lamps and as it was barely four in the afternoon, Harry didn't blame him. He moved swiftly from the first floor to the master bedroom on the second floor, locking himself in.

Ron was the hardest person to deal with when his family was in jeopardy. He denied the slightest infracture against them and would always defend them with all his pride, but Harry just wished that he could _see_...

Ginny was crazy. It broke his heart when he first admitted that to himself just weeks ago, but he had also seen the truth in it. If only-

Charlie was the only one in the Weasley family who could understand the possibility of Ginny never recovering. He had confided in Harry last night when he came over for a drink after his shift.

She was always under supervision, always cared for like a child. She wasn't allowed to be alone for any amount of time. This rule came about when she tried to take her own life a month ago after a very difficult visit. That was the last time Harry had seen her. She had thought he was a ghost come back to haunt him so she thought she would join him. He banned himself from the Weasley home if only for Ginny's continued safety.

Harry consulted a book lying open on his dresser. He studied the diagram once more just to refresh his memory, and then he waved his wand. The ward extended, preventing even the house-elf from entering his room. He did this when he had need of privacy, even from his friends. It was a ward which prevented all other living things except those which held his magical signature from entering or leaving a room. It was the strongest, most secure ward he had found so far that didn't include blood magic. He had had enough of blood wards.

Harry surveyed his room with grim determination. He slid his cloak from his robe pocket and wrapped it around, cocooning himself in invisibility. Opening the window and climbing out on to the lower roof, Harry silently moved from the window to a small deck outside a sitting room which could not be breached from the inside. Just another little quirk from his dead godfather's family. A fire escape led down into the alley way running behind the row of houses and he traversed it quickly and efficiently, leaving behind the gloom of the house and his friends.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here is some action for you! Dun Dun Dun enter Snape! The vampire in this, though not classical, is taken from about a dozen different portrayals. You have your Carmilla, Dracula, Spike, and a few others with a touch of originality (though not much thank goodness!) Be prepared to encounter something not wholly comforting- I'm terribly sorry if you are a vampire fanatic.

Thank you dearly for those who read, alerted and/or favourited this story. I hope that means there is some interest. I will do my best to please. Let me know if I fail ;) I also have a few chapters written- nothing major. Updating will be choppy at best and it is all self-edited. Again... let me know.

Warning: Some sexual content. Nothing overly terribly though. You know... just a little necking;) If you haven't guessed by now, it is of the slash nature.

.III.

Harry moved through the streets swiftly into the more desolate areas, the rain keeping most muggles indoors this afternoon and unwanted eyes away from the creeping teen and his nightly adventure. Harry enjoyed being out alone without the constant supervision of his friends. He could understand why they insisted on going to funerals with him, even when they barely knew the people who had died, but they were also adamantly attached to his side when he just wanted to be alone. He needed to start feeling like himself before he was forced back into the Wizarding World and he knew that path didn't quite include Ron and Hermione's constant presence.

Harry walked until, slowly but surely, the sky lightened and the sun could be seen through patches of grey cloud. The rain slowed to a drizzle, then a fine mist until the air was dry and the ground still damp from the shower. The small dirt lane he followed suddenly opened up into a low field dotted with markers. Harry looked around curiously, realizing that he stumbled upon an old grave yard. He looked at the graves and bent down to sweep bits of grass and dirt from the stones. He spun around in a slow circle and ached.

There was a reason he attended every funeral appearing in the Daily Prophet and it wasn't to remember the dead.

Those who died in the war did so because it took Harry so long to understand certain things. If he were just a bit quicker, and paid attention a bit more, less people would have been killed. So, as a means of redemption, Harry set out to make a (rather unknown) appearance at every funeral. Thankfully, it appeared as if only one funeral was held a day as so many friends and family members could attend every one.

Unreasonable, perhaps. But necessary.

Harry crouched down in front of a gravestone. This one cracked and the engraved letters faded as the stone was worn due to abandonment and weather. It reminded him of another grave, one which was only days old at best, sitting lonely and solemn beside the last house on Spinner's End. Nowhere else was appropriate to bury the unsung hero, Severus Snape.

Harry felt the stab of guilt and anguish as he recalled that time he spent in the man's memories. Snape loved Lily, more than Harry could ever imagine. He loved her so much that he was willing to do things that would make the enemies of Voldemort hate him forever. Because of the memories, Harry felt encouraged to forget about all the torment he was put through as a student. If only Snape had given him an _inkling_ of a sign that he was connected to Harry in that deeply meaningful way. If only Harry had made more of an effort to understand why Snape hated him so much and why he worked so hard to protect him... If only, if only.

A split decision, made between indecisive emotions, had Harry spinning suddenly on the spot, holding his wand tightly in his hand. He vanished from that small deserted graveyard and arrived in an even more desolate place. Harry stared at the rundown home that once belonged to Snape and longingly wished he dared enter it. He might be able to find something in there that tied Snape securely to Lily Evens and the past that Harry now knew was real. But he didn't. Not yet.

Harry passed the house, allowing his eyes to shift from side to side, watching for anything unpredictable and potentially dangerous. He didn't want to risk meeting up with anyone, muggle or otherwise, in this unsavoury neighbourhood.

At the very end of the street, a narrow path continued. It was a bike path mostly but it was also the easiest way to get in behind the houses without going through the yards. Harry enjoyed the walk, moving smoothly over pebbles and dirt, following the path which looped around, nearly doubling back upon itself. He took another right, coming up behind Snape's house and the small clearing which hosted the old church yard and single marking stone. He slowly took off his cloak and stuffed it in his pocket before moving closer, cautiously watching the surrounding shadows. Harry shifted his gaze to the shinny plaque which read:

_Severus Tobias Snape_

_Born 1960 January 9_

_Died 1998 May 2_

_May he be remembered for his bravery_

_and his unwavering loyalty_

Harry's lips twitched as he read the plaque over again. The remembrance was more appropriate for a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor than a Slytherin. He would most likely be rolling over in his grave if he knew what was written there.

After the war, Harry made no delay in handing the pensive over to Kingsley. After several viewings of the memories, it was decreed that Severus Snape was a hero and deserved to be buried as one. His was the death which Harry, for reasons not even known to him, felt the guiltiest for. All he wanted was more _time!_

If only...

Harry noticed an odd thing then. The fresh soil which had begun to grow weeds and a stray flower looked to be overturned, as if someone applied a rota tiller to it, disturbing the earth.

_Curious._

Harry wasn't able to contemplate on that for too long since a shift in light and movement caught his attention. He looked up, directly into the kitchen window Snape's home. There was movement, a shadow large and imposing, shifting from one end to the other. Someone was in the house!

Harry moved forward without thinking, stealthily creeping up to the house. The shadow had moved away from the kitchen, farther into the house which led, Harry supposed, into a living space of some sort. He silenced the door and opened it, surprised when it swung open without resistance. He entered slowly, smoothly with a technique he didn't know he possessed. No sound or movement alerted him that his presence was detected.

Harry crept out of the kitchen and down a very tight hallway, pausing for a moment to center himself, changing his grip on his wand and leaping out in the open with a shout-

A body hit him hard from the side, taking the momentum of his leap to control the fall. Harry's arms flew up and the wand knocked out of his hand and sailed through the air-

"Ahhhh." Harry screamed. "What the hell are you doing in this house, you bastard?"

The figure above him snarled, looming in close to his face. Harry could small the rank breath which tickled his cheek. "Mmmm." The figure breathed loudly and lowered his head, sniffing audible in Harry's ear.

Oh shit... shit. Something warm slippery and firm touched his jaw and dragged down to his throat.

Harry froze, his body seized so forcefully it felt as if his bladder would burst. At one point in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry was sure they must have covered Vampires... he couldn't remember!

The tongue retracted and Harry felt the mouth against his neck open. In a desperate act, Harry renewed his struggle just as twin pinpricks pushed against his skin and past it, sliding in smoothly past the muscle and into his jugular.

Harry froze as absolute panic gripped in his mind, building uncontrollably before snapping as surely as Ginny's own had.

The vampire lifted its head and howled in pain as he was removed and flung halfway across the room. He landed in a heap and Harry scrambled up to get his wand. He held it tightly in one hand and kept an eye on the fallen creature as he felt his neck. His skin was torn open and bloody but it wasn't deep enough to be life threatening, thank goodness!

Now what? He thought walking carefully along the wall. He whispered _Lumos_ and shone the light directly upon the figure. The body moved.

"That light is very annoying, boy!" the vampire said, rising to his feet.

Harry frowned. He knew that tone. A tone he heard many times before. He allowed the light to brighten slightly and the vampire hissed. Without meaning, Harry allowed it to dim again, lowering his wand just enough. The tone the vampire used... the tone- he knew not only the tone but the voice. But... but that couldn't be right!

The light began to flicker on the floor and Harry tightened his hold, realizing that he was shaking.

The vampire slowly turned, his face still bathed in shadows. "It is peculiar. The light doesn't cause pain exactly but I am strongly adverse to it." He sighed. "Put the wand down, boy, and I promise it will be over soon."

Harry's arm jerked upwards, flashing the light directly into the face of a cringing pale face. "Snape!"

The vampire, Harry wasn't sure how that was, snarled as the light suddenly became brighter, his head tilted back and his mouth open, revealing two sharp, long fangs stained faintly with red.

"What? You're a vampire!" Harry yelled. "Why are you a vampire? Don't tell me the rumours were true!"

Snape scrunched up his eyes, mouth open in the same silent snarl. He swung his head back and forth as if agitated and Harry pulled the light away from his face once more. Snape's body relaxed immediately. His chest heaved as if drawing air rapidly but his mouth had fallen closed once more.

Harry watched in concern. No, he didn't know much about vampires but he didn't think they would behave like this either. Snape was... strange. He looked confused, insecure and lost, a combination Harry had never before seen on his face. Harry took a step forward before he could think better of it.

It was the wrong thing to do.

He found himself pushed up against the wall and the pale face was pressed into his neck. The tongue was applying itself to cleaning the area of blood and Harry winced when the very tip pressed into one of the torn holes-

"Gah! Snape, let me go, please." No response other than and more persistent tongue. "Snape! Get off!" Harry tried to push off his ex-professor to no avail. His upper body was pushed up against the wall, unbalanced and unable to correct his position.

He felt the fine drag of fangs over his throat once more. "Snape! Don't do this!" Harry tried to slid down the wall, to get away from that dreadful mouth but Snape just rested his body firmly against Harry, efficiently keeping him in place.

Harry groaned, his eyes rolling up in his head and his body falling limp as a latent, secondary spike assaulted his body. Heat, coiling, tightening heat wrapped around his stomach and drifted down, resting comfortably deep within his balls.

_Oh my god! _

He was utterly terrified and horrifyingly aroused! Snape was alive! He was here but he was a bloody vampire and he was going to kill Harry! Oh shit... the fangs pierced his skin again, slightly lower than the last. Harry shuttered as he felt blood begin to draw from his body and his mind went momentarily blank.

Was- was that... oh- oh gods, it was... it really really was! Snape had shifted against Harry's body, resting a firm, lean leg at the apex of Harry's. Reflex caused Harry to jerk away, pressing hard against Snape. Harry's head lolled to the side, as instinct took over, flexing his hips slightly in a rhythmic fashion until he was just close enough to-

Oh fuck! Harry jerked spastically away farther into the wall, hoping that it would open up and just absorb him. It stayed solid as if mocking Harry for finding himself in such a predicament. If he ever sees Hermione and Ron again, he will allow them to follow him everywhere! He promises!

But no, the chances of even coming out of this alive were so very slim-

The tight flexes of Harry's hips became thrusts and Harry could feel the entirety of his arousal as his body was used a meal while being drawn into depravity.

Snape pulled out, having drunk such a small amount, and licked the bite mark. Harry moaned in what he fervently wished was not pleasure. Snape withdrew his tongue and placed his lips fully around the mark, sucking hard against the skin, drawing more blood into his mouth. The small holes weren't big enough to allow a fast stream of blood, especially with his fangs retracted and Harry's irrational thought was that Snape had lied about it being quick. It felt as if he were dragging the process out deliberately. He pulled his mouth away and tilted his head back enough that Harry could see a look of such rapture on the creatures face.

Harry shuttered as he peaked, his eyes rolling back in his head and he body relaxing into Snape's hold.

"Delicious." The Vampire hissed, cracking his eyes open a fraction, revealing his black eyes. He pulled his face back down to Harry's neck and slid his fangs into yet another unmarked patch of skin, drawing a faster flush of blood as he pierced an artery. Harry's head spun with the blood loss and continual sparks of pleasure, loosening his connection to reality. All he felt was the constant tug at his throat which seemed to be directly attached to his cock. His vision started to darken and tunnel until all he could see was the inky black hair of his attacker.

Suddenly, the head pulled away again, blood dripping down that chin as a pale arm lifted to his mouth as if to wipe it. It didn't. That mouth opened and the fang pierced the thin blue vein. Harry confusedly wondered why he didn't feel any pain when his wrist was torn open like his neck was. He opened his mouth to ask and before he could, the torn wrist was pressed to his mouth.

"Drink." Was the command and unable to resist, Harry let the coppery liquid flow into his mouth and slid down his throat. The lightness of his head gently spread to the rest of his body and Harry smiled as he drifted away...


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Another Chapter up! Thanks to all those who are reading. I do hope that means you actually like it ;) Drop a line if you have anything to share. Forgive Snape in this one, he is recently dead after all. And poor Harry- very traumatic and all that.

Without further ado- Enjoy :)

.IV.

The first thing that Harry thought of when he woke was that he was glad his nightmares were gone. Unfortunately, the dreams weren't much better.

The second thing he thought was that he was being held awful tightly for having gone to bed alone.

The third thought was about the dream _not_ being a dream at all.

Harry opened his eyes.

It was heavily shadowed in the room in which he lay. There was no light except for a flickering torch on one wall, casting deep pockets of endless darkness just outside its light.

"Huh?" Harry blinked as he realized that he could _see_ into those pockets. He couldn't see with his eyes which were dull and fuzzy without his glasses but he knew which objects lay cloaked in shadows. He could follow the sharp edges of the flames while the coloured vision remained blurry and blended.

Then his bedmate shifted ever so slightly in his sleep. Harry frowned. Since when did vampires sleep anything but the sleep of the dead? Right. Vampires.

"Oh for the love of- " he bit off what he was saying as the arms attached around his waist tightened before loosening their hold enough to drag hand up and down Harry's torso suggestively. A hand dipped down and slid back up torturously, ending up against bare skin.

Harry jumped at the contact of cold flesh against his. He looked down and groaned. "Not only have you bit and molested me, but you also stripped me down?" Harry's voice raised an octave, much to his embarrassment.

Okay, truthfully, Snape had not stripped him of _all _his clothes; he just removed his outer robe and his jumper, no big deal right? Harry shifted his legs and instantly brushed against something cold and hairy. That cold and hairy object suddenly lifted and draped over Harry's legs, pressing them together and a hard, _male_ body pulled flush against his, as a face nuzzled into his neck.

He looked down a bit further, rolled his eyes up in his head and said, "He removed my fucking pants!"

Harry jerked away from the vampire pulling hard against that rather insistent hold that the cosy little bed teetered on its frame. It tipped over, spilling the two men on the floor.

Harry broke free as Snape abruptly woke up, apparently delirious. Harry's eyes flickered to the bed and stared.

It wasn't a bed. It wasn't a bed at all. It was a coffin... and Harry would bet all the money left over in his vault that it was the very same coffin they had buried Snape in only days ago. "Oh my blessed—"

"Potter! What are you doing here?" Harry looked up to see Snape staring at him. His pale face and inky hair making him look like a demented angel. The nose didn't help very much either.

"You- you're you now?" Harry asked in a rush.

Snape sneered. "Of course I am and I see you are just as ignorant as always, Potter!"

Harry shook his head. "You're a vampire! Why are you a vampire?"

"What delirium is affecting you now–"

The snide look on the other man's face froze, followed swiftly by his body as if attempting to make all attention pass from him. He cleared his throat after a moment and Harry could see the slight shift of his upper lip as if feeling his teeth with his tongue. "I suppose I am." He answered in wonderment. "Will you look at that? I should be dead."

"You died. I saw you die." Harry ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, coming in contact with sticky broken skin. He pulled his hand away in shock and stared at loose bits of dried blood and scab. "You bit me!"

Snape had the decency to look slightly embarrassed then revoltingly sick. "I bit you? How are you still alive?"

"Don't you remember?" Harry asked quietly, but no less disgusted. He was sitting on a stone floor in some sort of dungeon in his tee-shirt and boxers. Snape, Harry noticed a second later, was completely naked. Dear god! He was sleeping in his arms! Harry shivered violently and repressed the urge to be sick.

Snape stared at Harry with dead eyes, staring at him in such a way which would have given him nightmares back in school. "If I remembered, Potter, I wouldn't have asked." Snape replied snarkily.

"Erm, well, to your first question I suppose... you bit me then you, uh..." Harry stalled out pathetically and gestured weakly at Snape. "Your wrist..."

Snape lifted up his arm and examined his wrist, noticing for the first time a smear of blood, just as dried as the flaky stuff on Harry's hand. The cut had long since healed

"You... drank from me? I fed you?" At Harry's hesitant nod, Snape's face filled with panic and his eyes opened almost comically wide. "Not you! Anyone but you!" Snape cradled his head into his hands, muttering to himself, only every fifth word or so was understandable. "Calm...breathe... can't?...- count... Four. Five. Six- not... Harry Potter... ignoramus... infuriating twit! ... Kill... murder!" Snape tilted up a bit, staring at Harry in the same manner he had when Neville Longbottom melted the bottom out of a cauldron. Harry shivered. "_Idiot!_" Snape hissed again.

"Um... Sir?" Harry said, insecurely. "I didn't know you could speak Parseltongue..."

Snape rolled his eyes, the whites showing a bit too much along the bottom as he did so, and snarled. "I can't, you moron!"

"...oh. Right then." Apparently he just hissed very conveniently.

Snape visibly pulled his runaway temper back under his control. He shook his torso with an odd flick of his shoulders, as if dispelling a pest. He drew audible air into his lungs which didn't inflate and stared once more at Harry. "Potter." He spoke in painfully controlled tones. "Tell me what happened. Everything, as closely as you can."

Harry shuffled his feet. "Oh... uh, well," he looked at his watch, "It's June 2nd! Wow, it's already been a month since the final battle? Time flies, doesn't it?"

"A month?" Snape asked, incredulous. Then his eyes opened in wonder. "You survived. You really did survive, didn't you?"

"Uhh." Harry looked down at his hands, his bare legs and his shirt which now sported a large tear from the crashing coffin. "I think so, yeah. If you mean from Voldemort, then yeah, I did. He's gone for good, you know." Harry added with a wince. "After he... uhh- killed you, he tried to kill me, but it didn't- didn't work out too well for him. In the end, his curse rebounded because of the Elder Wand." Harry looked away, studying his hands. "We buried you three days ago."

"Three days?" Snape's voice bordered on the sceptical and Harry looked mildly embarrassed. "I have been-" he looked at his hands, flipping them over and watching the torch light flicker over them. He cleared his throat. "Dead. I have been dead for a month and you buried me a measly three days ago?"

"Ah, yeah. You see, it took a little bit to convince the Ministry to release your body even after you were cleared." Harry snuck a peek at Snape. "Then the proper burial place had to be decided."

"Idiotic brat! Morons, the lot of them! Where on earth did they store my body that I ended up like this?" Snape gestured at his still nude form which Harry tried not to look at.

"Umm." Was all Harry could say. He was still in awe over the fact that his most hated (and respected) professor was, well not alive but conscious. The monster from last night, terrifying and definitely bloodthirsty, was a lot easier to associate with the dead man. With this coherent version standing in front of him, Harry could almost believe that he was about to be given detention, albeit minus a few items of clothing.

Snape stared at Harry for a long moment before sweeping out of the room and up the stairs. A minute later and he was back, fully garbed in long, black billowy robes and a jar in one hand. Without communicating his intent, Snape swooped over to Harry, manipulated his chin then dug two fingers into the jar, extracting a clear gel. He massaged the gel into Harry's neck, his long fingers lingering a few seconds longer than necessary. He was across the room before Harry registered that the hand had been removed.

"Leave now, Mr. Potter." Snape said, more composed than he had been the entire evening. "With any luck, we shall not meet again."

Harry stared at the back of Snape's head, trying to discover what thoughts were running through it. He took a single step forward which caused Snape's back to stiffen and Harry paused. A moment of silence in which Harry quietly conferred with himself passed the two men by. Finally, when it appeared that they would stay there forever, Harry moved to the door. He hesitated.

"Sir," he said quietly, "Thank you, for everything."

Before Snape could even think of turning around, Harry was gone.

Harry arrived back in Grimmauld Place, only to be accosted on sight.

"Harry Potter!" came the shrill cry and Harry found himself gripped in an impossibly tight embrace. He looked through the curtain of curly hair to see Ron, just as relieved (and angry) as Hermione who only tightened her hold. "Don't _dare_ do anything like again! Do you hear me?"

Harry patted her awkwardly on the back. "Er.. I'm sorry? Come on, Hermione, I can't breathe." He coughed none too convincingly but she released him anyway, wiping her eyes on the back of one hand.

"I'll never forgive you if you get yourself hurt-" She cut herself off mid rant and stared at Harry. "Is- is that blood?" the last word came out as barely a whisper.

"What are you talking about- Harry you're bleeding!" Ron came up to stand beside Hermione and they both stared down at him.

He automatically covered his neck with one hand, swiping it over the bite marks. His hand came away bloody. Looks like Snape didn't do all that great of a job healing him. "Uhh..."

"Harry." Hermione said, pained. "Is that a bite mark?"

"That's a lot of blood for a bug bite, Hermione." Ron said, staring intently at the mark.

"No, that's not-"

"Ron!" Harry interrupted. "Can you get me some paper to clean this up? Thanks." He watched his best friend shrug then go into the kitchen, perplexed. Harry grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "Hermione! What can you tell me about Vampires?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Trying to please others is exhausting isn't it? It is about time we start pleasing ourselves ;) Poor Harry is just learning that very valuable lesson. Let's see where it gets him, shall we?

**Warning: **Attempted murder, sleep deprived friends and stalker vampires. Oh- also another short chapter.

.V.

"Vampires?" Hermione tilted Harry's head, examining the bite mark. Apparently what she saw was very convincing. She bit her lip thoughtfully for a minute before backing away gently. "Wait here." With that, she followed after Ron into the kitchen.

Harry sat down where he stood, too exhausted to try and make it to the sitting room. He looked up thankfully at the large blank space on the wall next to the door. After helping to win the war and finally fulfilling Regulus Black's dying wish, Kreacher resigned to his position in serving Harry in any way possible. This included the removal of several portraits and dark artefacts that were, until then, immovable.

He sighed and allowed his eyes to droop. Though he was sure he slept the entire day, Harry found himself wishing for no more than the comfort of his bed. If only Hermione could hurry up and answer some very pressing questions he had-

Water splashed in his face and Harry surged up, sputtering. He froze at the sight of Ron holding a dripping jug and Hermione cowering behind him.

"What the hell, mate?" Harry raged. He ripped his glasses off his face and dried them on his tee-shirt and took a deep breath. "What the hell?" he asked again, slightly more subdued.

Ron took a minute step back and Hermione, looking panicked, threw tiny clumps of white diced things. They hit harry in the face. He blinked.

"Uhh, Hermione?" Ron asked quietly. "I thought you said that would work?"

Hermione, still partially behind her boyfriend, paled considerably. "I thought so too."

"Do we have to?" Ron asked, wincing a bit.

"We better, or else..." she trailed off and Harry growled, a rumbling sound that somehow started in his chest.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" the tone in which this was said would be hard pressed to be classified as 'human.'

Harry watched, impassioned as Hermione straightened her back and stepped away from Ron. She held her right hand behind her back. "We love you, Harry. It's for your own good. But don't worry, it should be painless."

Her chest rose and sunk as she took another deep breath and raised her right hand above her head. There gleamed a smooth, and very sharp, stake.

"Holy shit!" Harry yelled, stumbling back just as Hermione lunged at him. "Hermione! Stop!" a flicker from the side caught his attention and he turned his head, just in time to see Ron's wand flick up and ropes quickly bind themselves around his legs, causing him to crash to the ground.

Hermione hovered nearer, holding the stake in perfect striking position when Harry broke down. This was even more terrifying than having Snape suck on his neck!

"Hermione! Please. I'm not a vampire. I'm not a vampire. You gotta believe me!" Her eyes hardened slightly and Harry saw her grip on the stake shift slighting, as if to strengthen her hold. Harry sobbed. "Mione!"

Her hand came down quickly and Harry closed his eyes and tensed, waiting for the moment of impact.

It never came.

"Wait!" Ron shouted. "Hermione! Look!"

Harry heard the clatter of a chunk of wood hitting the floor. The stake!

"Oh my." Hermione sounded full of surprise and dread. Harry felt his heart leap. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up. There, resting above was a bright little orb. Harry dimly recalled Kreacher placing it there when Harry once complained about the shadowed recesses in the entrance way. It was a simple enough ball of light but what made his two friends gasp in amazement was the remembered fact that it was pure sunlight and it was a well known fact that sunlight was deadly to Vampires and it was shinning directly on Harry.

He fell back boneless, not even caring when _finite_ was cast and the ropes around his legs released.

"Oh Harry, that's why the holy water and the garlic didn't work. You're not a vampire!" Hermione dropped to her knees beside him and bit her lip, obviously upset at jumping to the wrong conclusion.

"Gee, thanks!" Harry breathed, his heart beating impossibly fast. "I could've told you that!"

"I know, and I should have listened." Her head twisted around and Harry followed her gaze to where Ron was collapsed, shocked, only a few feet away. "But when you asked about Vampires, and that bite on your neck... I thought-"

"That I was a Vampire! Yeah I got that, thanks!"

"But... but, but why, Harry?" Hermione asked in a rare moment of inarticulation.

"I don't know!" He burst out. "I don't know what happened! One minute I was visiting Snape's grave and the next he was sucking on my neck!"

"Snape?" Ron returned from his stupor. "Snape is the vampire." He grinned suddenly and crowed. "Probably should have seen that one coming!"

"Ron! That's enough." Hermione turned to Harry. "How can Snape be a vampire? We buried him days ago."

"Yeah, and a whole lot of good that did! He sleeps in a freakin coffin, Hermione!" Harry shot Ron a look when the redhead brayed laugher once more. "Shut up Ron! Do you know how easily he could have killed me? I would probably be dead if he hadn't given me his blood to drink!"

The sudden revelation of such an event stunned his friend back into silence once more. Harry would have been pleased if it were not for the outraged gasp coming from Hermione.

"What?" he asked.

"He made you drink his blood?" Hermione whispered, so softly Harry could barely hear her.

"Yeah, so?" Harry's eyes quickly found the stake which lay on the floor directly behind Hermione. If he could move just a bit faster than she can... and if he surprised her, he might just get the stake first. "I'm not a vampire!" he said quickly.

Hermione waved it away. "Yes, yes, I know. You're not a blood sucking vampire in which we have to fear for our lives. Instead, you got yourself effectively owned by one of the undead! Harry, how could you be that stupid?"

She glared at Harry and he blinked back. "What?" he asked.

"You became his personal blood donor! He is now protected under the Act of Subduing Magical Creatures! In section five it clearly states that any vampire who can safely choose a human to become a living blood donor, they will be granted complete amnesty for any previous killings." Harry blinked at her again and she rolled her eyes. "Snape is a free vampire thanks to him not killing you, but you are also obligated to feed him as much as is required!"

Harry let the information sink in with a despairing knot in his belly. Did that really mean...

Hermione huffed. "It means, Harry, that anytime, anyplace and in any circumstance, Snape can come and find you, and drink from you! He can, and most likely will, enter your home without being invited since he essentially _owns_ you!"

Yes, it really did mean that. Harry sighed and stood up slowly, carefully keeping his eyes away from either friend. He started walking up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Hermione demanded.

Harry continued up the stairs but did call over his shoulder. "To bed. Good night."

He could hear rather loud voices coming from the entrance hall just as he reached his room. It sounded like Hermione was tearing a strip from Ron because he could have said more and didn't. Harry shook his head and pulled out his wand, waving it over the door. The wards collapsed and he entered, falling face down on his bed without a thought and letting his consciousness drift off without him.

Harry woke to a rhythmic thump which seemed to beat in time to the light pounding of his head. He opened sleep crusted eyes, squinting in the darkness but unable to see anything. It was the time just before dawn which fell to be the blackest part of night. He reached blindly under his pillow and left his fingers gloss over his holly wand before gripping it tightly in his fist.

He waved it, muttering _lumos. _The beam emitting from his wand floated around the room. He froze the light on the window and stared in confusion. The outside shutter was banging softly against the siding. The glass pane was open only an inch but enough that the sound would actually wake him.

Harry climbed out of bed to latch the window firmly. It must have slipped the hook, though Harry couldn't recall a time that it had happened before...

His wand dangled toward the floor as he pulled the window closed and locked it tightly. He turned to climb back in bed when something shinny caught his eye. He looked down.

There, just inside the window ledge were two perfect boot prints lined in water. Harry choked on the rapidly indrawn air. No, no, nonono! It couldn't be. Harry felt his stomach lurch. Snape had found him...

...which shouldn't have been surprising really seeing as everyone in the Order knew he owned the house.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hello Everyone! I felt just a bit guilty for not updating in the past two and a half weeks so... here are two chapters. Enjoy!

Warnings: Just a little bit of religious mumbo-jumbo.

.VI.

Day Two

June 3rd

After a rather sleepless night, Harry stumbled down into the kitchen at an ungodly hour, expecting to be alone. However, he was surprised to discover his friends sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by books and scrolls of paper. Hermione was furiously reading page after page in a large tome while Ron looked like he was about to collapse from utter exhaustion.

Harry entered the room slowly and cautiously. Hermione looked up.

"Oh Harry! Thank goodness you're alright! Did he hurt you? We couldn't get into your room when the alarm went off!"

Hermione's fear was clear in her voice, barely able to suppress the waver and hiccup. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were looking a little sticky like she had been crying.

"The alarm? What are you talking about?" Harry asked. Hermione's face crumpled and Ron finally looked up, definitely harbouring a guilty conscious.

"Uhh, well, after –you know- you told us about Snape... Hermione-" a sharp look from Hermione and Ron stumbled back over his sentence "-_we_ thought it would be safer to activate certain wards around the house." Ron swallowed. "Did- did he... uh... _you _know..."

Hermione scoffed through her tears. "'Did he, uh, you know.' Nice Ron."

Ron's ears turned red and throbbed and Harry took pity on him. "No Ron," he said. "Snape didn't bite me again. He just, I don't know... watched me... I guess."

Silence, then the soft uttering of "Pervert" as Ron breathed out.

"Ron!" Hermione admonished and he shrugged.

"Well, what else do you call someone who sneaks into a bloke's room to watch while he sleeps, eh?"

The witch rolled her eyes before looking up at Harry. "Sit, I found something that might make some things clear..." She trailed off as Harry sat.

Ron huffed, obviously annoyed that his concern was brushed off before getting up and pouring Harry a cup of coffee. The warm aroma filled the room and steam slowly curled its way over the rim. Harry accepted it without a word and took a sip, not taking his eyes off Hermione.

She pulled out a map detailing the area around Spinner's End and a sheaf of parchment, quickly ruffling through it. She tapped the map with her wand, lighting up a specific area that Harry recognized as containing Snape's house.

"In the 17th century, during the bloodiest witch hunts, the protestant church, here-" a building lit up just outside the circle. Harry recalled it being nothing more than a broken down ruin. "-used the yard as the persecution grounds. As you know, Harry, more muggles were falsely accused of being witches than real witches and wizards but there were those who did practice satanic rituals even darker and eviler than the darkest arts ever considered to be preformed."

Harry scoffed at that. He couldn't imagine anything more evil than Voldemort and the acts he had committed in his attempt at immortality.

The scoff wasn't missed by Hermione, however.

"I know, I know. Voldemort was evil, Harry, but he was also working towards a goal that was based in human desires. These satanic practitioners were not only trying to kill a specific group of people, they were trying to kill a god!"

"Oh come on, Hermione. How can someone kill a god when they only exist for the weak minded?" Harry asked.

Ron's eyes widened and Hermione's narrowed. "Perhaps, Harry, your aunt and uncle weren't religious but my parents are-were." She corrected herself with a wince since they were still in Australia with no recollection of having a daughter. "I even still went to church with them over the summer."

Harry raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. Hermione was the last person he would have suspected to fall into that whole 'faith' thing. She was too smart for it, in his mind. He inclined his head, indicating that he would try to behave if she continued to explain.

"Thank you." She said, greatly annoyed. "As I was saying, since these practitioners were adamant at killing God, when they were killed, this ground became something festering with evil. It was this event which named the street 'Spinner's End.'" The circled area shrunk as it focused on a pinpoint. "When the ministry decided to bury Snape near his home, they didn't take into account that there was a reason no one utilized the old church yard as a gravesite. The ground is unholy."

Oh. OH. Harry released the explosive breath he didn't know he was holding. "Those idiots!" he screamed.

"I know, mate. But at least we know how he was changed..." Ron trailed off. Vampires were created in a number of different ways but only one of the ways was considered 'natural.' When a human body was buried in unholy or cursed soil and the evil slowly changed the once living flesh into something akin to the living dead, was not a natural occurrence.

"That's not the bloody point! The man who hated me even more than Voldemort is walking around sucking blood! Not only that, but he somehow managed to choose me as his personal blood donor!"

Ron had gone pale and Hermione was looking faintly sick as well. "Uh, mate? Can you stop talking about blood now?"

Harry froze, silently recounted what he yelled and scowled. "The ministry just can't stop fucking up my life, can they?"

"Harry!" Hermione admonished but he ignored her, lost in his inner tirade.

First, it began innocently enough, with the Daily Prophet making accusations about him due to his false entry in the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year. This continued on until they started to violently question his sanity, not to mention subjecting him to a full trial when he was only fifteen years old and a ministry lackey trying to kill him. In sixth year, the ridiculous title of the 'Chosen One' came out, making his life even more hellish. Now, the only thing they can do to protect him is make sure the public believes that he is a danger to society and is under house arrest awaiting trail- again.

At least this time, Harry knew one hundred percent that it was all a farce. That didn't help the fact that the Ministry was one gigantic arse-hole that still needed a thorough washout, even after the flip they experiences about a month ago. The Deatheater trials were pretty much a running joke. Anyone 'lucky' enough to get a trial was barely given any chance at being saved, and since defence is unheard of, the Malfoy family, whom Harry was planning on defending, are all under lockdown. Well, he only wanted to defend Narcissa and Malfoy Jr, since they really got the rough edge there; Harry couldn't care what happened to Malfoy Sr but he figured telling the truth would probably help him anyway, as he took little to no part in the final battle. At the moment, all three were in a dank holding cell in the Ministry with no trial in sight. As he said, the Ministry sucked ba-

"Harry!" hard glass was slammed down on the table and Harry looked up in surprise. Hermione was standing over him, her hands leaning heavily on the table as she loomed over him. He blinked.

"Did you just make that plate jump?" he asked, watching as said plate wobbled slightly.

Hermione blushed but she wouldn't let him distract her from what she deemed as her task. "Harry this is serious! By all rights, he is protected and since you drank from him willingly, you are essentially his slave. It doesn't matter how he was turned. It just matters that he was and had picked you as his donor!"

Harry blinked. "Is there anything we can do to change that?"

Hermione paused and straightened slightly. "Um… no…."

"Then there is nothing we can do."

"But mate!" Ron started and ended in those two words.

"What? He's not going to kill me and, if you think about it, I kinda owe him. What's a measly amount of blood?" Harry turned inward, thinking about how much Snape had sacrificed for everyone. He figured someone could sacrifice a little for the bastard, even if he was a blood sucking vampire.

He distantly heard Ron sigh. "He's being noble again, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid so, Ron." Hermione replied. Harry could see her shaking her head from the corner of his eye. With that, and the assurance that he wasn't going to run off to Spinner's End and pester Snape (if he were awake which he wouldn't be since the sun was high and bright, shinning in a way it only did in summer) his two best friends slowly crept upstairs to their shared room, a perk that was never mentioned in the company of one Mrs. Weasley.

Harry was left alone and the first thing he did was fire-call Kingsley Shackbolt.


	7. Chapter 7

Warnings: Minister-cursing, necking and more!

.VII.

"Kingsley, you arse-hole! Dirty wanger banger! You two-bit, selfish son of a bit-." Harry was just starting, quite cheerfully and would have continued for some time yet if Kingsley hadn't interrupted.

"I assume you called for a reason, Harry?" Kingsley responded blandly. This was not the first insult ridden call he had received from the Wonder-BoyWho-Lived-To-Kick-Ass-Over-and-Over-and-Over-and- Over-and… well you get the point.

"Yeah, you piss pot. Do you know anything about Muggle history? Even the events which crossed over in Wizard history?"

Kingsley looked confused. "I don't know what-."

"Or what about the history concerning Spinner's End?" Harry interrupted, sounding a little more desperate with every question, if that unhealthy gleam in his eyes were anything to go by.

"Spinner's End? Harry, is this about-."

"Or better yet! Do you know about the satanic rituals involved and the burnings which turned the ground unholy and able to change a recently buried corpse into one of the living dead?"

This last question, more answer than question, caused Kingsley to freeze where he crouched before the fire.

"Are you _sure_? Absolutely sure with no doubts?"

"I have the bite marks to prove it." Harry flatly stated, drawing out a rather violent twitch from the Minister.

He fish-gapped for a moment. The useless opening and closing of the mouth which only happens when one is shocked beyond reason... or trying to catch that tasty worm just out of reach. And something that Harry was absurdly proud of having accomplished.

"How are you alive?" Kingsley asked when he gained command of his voice once more.

Harry couldn't resist, so he quipped back, "Long or short version?"

The scowl which appears so often on Kingsley's face when speaking to Harry appeared, causing Harry to grin in delight. No one said he had to make it easy on those imprisoning him, even it was for his own 'good.' "Harry." Kingsley spoke warningly.

Harry shrugged. "Went to his house the other night, met him, got bit, drank his blood, and now I am apparently his personal blood bank." He paused, thinking of something rather significant. "Do you think I could charge money for this?"

Kingsley apparently found an even tastier worm.

* * *

><p>By the time Hermione and Ron crawled out of bed (Harry was pretty sure they did more than sleep if that bashful smile on Ron's face was anything to go by), it was nearing four o'clock. Hermione was all business and hit to books once more, even fire-calling Minerva McGonagall and begging for permission to access the school's library once more. Hermione was passed looking for ways to get out of a blood donor contract, she promised. Now, she was looking up every shred of information to discover Harry's chance of survival. So far, it didn't look pretty.<p>

Harry started on dinner, being the only one with even a decent ability to cook. He cheerfully told Ron about the call he made to Kingsley. The event was fresh and clear in his mind and he thoroughly enjoyed messing with the ex-auror. When he finally got down to business, they had decided that there was nothing to be done except register the pair at the ministry. Of course, that wouldn't happen until night fell and Harry would still have to convince Snape to play along. Not a happy prospect.

Dinner was made and eaten and gradually the sun set. Hermione and Ron looked anxious and Harry looked exhausted. His excess energy had long since worn thin and he was nodding from his seat in front of the fire in the freshly painted library. The sun vanished and dark grew deep and thick. Not five minutes later, Severus Snape, dead potions professor and vampire was before them.

Harry jerked awake.

"Shit, you're scary." He all but screamed. Snape seemed to roll his eyes without taking them away from Harry.

"Potter, follow me. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can leave."

Ron and Hermione both jumped to their feet. "Just wait a damn minute!" "Why can't you do the feeding here?"

Snape turned and smirked at the duo. "One defends his friend, and the other hopes for a research opportunity. My, my, my, what lovely friends you have, Potter. "

Hermione blushed and turned away while Ron glowered. "You over grown, greasy bat."

The smirk disappeared and was replaced by a sneer. He swept from the room, adeptly skirting the entrance hall and the imitated sunlight shinning there. Harry looked back at his friends and gave an embarrassed little smile. He ran after Snape.

"Oi, Snape!" Harry called when he found the vampire lounging on his bed. _His bed!_ "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Well, Potter," he drawled. "There is a little think called being _hungry_. Though I don't suppose you know what that is, do you?"

"Cut the shit-."

"Language, language, Potter."

Harry glared and Snape arched his eye brow. "How often do you need to feed anyway?"

One moment Snape was lying down, the next he was standing a foot from Harry. He learned forward and sniffed. "It is not necessary for my survival to feed tonight, but I would rather not revert to the mindless creature I was apparently before." Harry opened his mouth and Snape covered it with his hand. "No, do not tell me. I have read enough about vampires that I can guess the worst. I do not want to know."

Harry glared, his eyes narrowing to the point that it obscured his vision. They widened almost instantly when that hand over his mouth slid softly and gently to his cheek, then to his neck and finally resting at the back of his head. Snape lowered his face, his body suddenly pressed against Harry as the other hand wound around his back, holding him still. Harry couldn't have moved an inch if he wanted to.

A tongue applied itself to the juncture between his neck and shoulder and Harry freely allowed his head to loll, allowing the vampire more room. Fangs breached his skin and Harry gasped, feeling instantly aroused. He shuffled closer to Snape, trying to gain friction. This was so much better than last time! The drawing of blood from the wound was as heady as having too much firewhiskey. He felt powerful and harder than belief. A leg inserted itself between his thighs and Harry straddled it, placing his weight behind his wild thrusts. He gasped for completion, begging for it and it came suddenly.

Somewhere, the lips were removed from his neck and a bleeding wrist was held above his mouth. He latched onto it, pulling the blood into his mouth and down his throat like a man dying of dehydration suddenly given water. Harry felt his body moving and being laid down on the soft bed. The wrist was drawn away and Harry blinked at the now empty place above him. He sat up and looked around.

He was alone and the window was open.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hello dears, I have another gift for you. Oh, look! There are _two _chapters for the lovely people who reviewed first. A very big thank you to Kate101 and Mizzrazz72 for your reviews! I hope these chapters are what you are hoping for. And a very grand thank you to all you who have shown your appreciation through the use of those lovely favourite and alert buttons.

Stay warm in blustery December!

Warning: Short Chapter ahead!

.VIII.

Day Three

June 4th

Harry woke late the next morning. Hermione was sitting at the table, scribbling on a piece of paper with a pen. She raised her head and stared at him with a vague look of disgust.

"Oh! You're awake. I was just leaving a note." She picked up the paper and scrunched it in a ball. "Here."

Harry picked up the vial of red from the table. "Uh, thanks." He said, not understanding why Hermione would give him blood.

She rolled her eyes. "It's blood replenisher. It's a good idea for you to take it after every feeding even if he… feeds you." Harry felt her eyes trace his face and he frowned, feeling his chin. It was crusty and he pulled it away. Flaks of copper floated to the floor.

"Oh Godric!" he screamed and ran into the bathroom where he spent several minutes scrubbing face and teeth before feeling his hair. It was slightly crusty as well. He swore again and jumped into the shower. Half an hour later, he emerged wrapped in three towels and someone's housecoat. It was pink. He collapsed in his chair in the kitchen where Hermione and Ron were looking at him worriedly.

He picked up the vial. "Bottoms up." He monotoned and tipped the potion down his throat. It tasted like blood and made his stomach nearly rebel in protest. Thankfully, it didn't.

A hand touched his. "Harry, are you okay?"

Hermione's doe eyes glittered suspiciously, almost like they do every time she comes across another rare book. Harry scowled softly, without true enmity. "I guess it'll take a bit getting used to." He admitted then brightened slightly. "Look!" he pointed to his neck. "It's healed over completely this time." The mark, he had seen in the bathroom, was nothing more than two small pinpricks of red. It wasn't bleeding sluggishly like it had been two days ago. He looked proudly at Hermione and Ron. Hermione was nodding in agreement and Ron looked a little green.

"Mate, I love you, you know that. But please, please, stop talking about blood now, and holes and bloody holes in your neck!" Ron's voice even sounded green. Harry was glad the other man wasn't around when he came down this morning with blood on neck _and_ mouth. He shuddered from the memory.

"We have to go, Harry. We promised Mrs. Weasley we would come for lunch. I'll bring something home for you…"

"Yeah, thanks Hermione. Thanks."

She nodded once more and followed Ron to the Floo. She turned back. "Before I forget. There're more books in the library. I grabbed all the helpful ones from Hogwarts this morning. You should do a little reading."

She vanished suddenly in green flame. Harry sighed. "It's the summer!" he whined to himself.

Harry read past the first two pages in the first book before tossing it on the ground. The bright light streaming in from the partially curtained window was giving him a headache. He covered his eyes with his hands and leaned back in the chair, trying to force himself to stay awake, though as the tension headache caused by the bright light eased, so did the stiffened shoulders and tight torso relax.

The floo flared up a little of an hour later, startling Harry into awareness. "Harry Potter?" a high female voice asked from out of the green flames. Harry struggled to pull himself away from his tangled limbs on the chair and fell to his knees before the fire with little concern for safety. The only people with access to his floo was the Ministry- those bastards!- and Harry was fairly sure that Minister Shackbolt didn't want to kill him. Though to think about it, he wouldn't put it past Kingsley wanting to kill him, as long as it wasn't under the ministry cloak… he did after all spend more time than necessary cursing the man out.

"Here." He said.

"For you." The voice replied seconds before a letter whizzed out of the green flames. The head vanished without another word and the flames turned a ripe orange before dying all together and leaving the hearth as barren as before. Harry took up the letter and flipped it over, seeing the private seal of the Minister for Magic engraved on the flap. He shrugged and tore it open.

"Harry? Harry! Come quick! Look!" Harry jumped at the sudden bang which accompanied the yell he dimly recognized as Hermione's. She was excited about something- obviously. He rolled his eyes and placed the letter on the arm of the chair he recently vacated and followed the exclamations into the kitchen. She bouncing around the kitchen, much too erratic to be called 'pacing' while Ron sat stunned at the table.

She paused very briefly when she noticed Harry standing in the doorway. "Oh it's so exciting! Isn't it exciting Ron? I can't wait!"

Ron's forehead emitted a _thunk_ as it met the tabletop.

"We can finally go back!"

"Back where?" Harry asked warily.

"Hogwarts!" Ron let out a pained groan at Hermione's exuberant yell.

"No."

Hermione stopped bouncing and Ron lifted his head off the table. "No?" he asked, hope lighting his face.

Hermione looked aghast at anyone denying further education. "Bu-but Harry, you must-."

"Do nothing, Hermione. I'm not obligated to go back. You go if you want," Ron's head hit the table once more, "but I'm not going back."

"Your NEWTS, though. You wanted to be an Auror." Her subdued voice tugged at something in Harry's heart but he couldn't give in. That wasn't an option.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I have an open invitation into the Auror academy from Kingsley. He'll go back to being Head of the division when they find another suitable candidate for Minister."

"But you can't just use those favours-"

"I have a bloody vampire after me! A blood sucking fiend who seems to enjoy either waking me up for a snack or just to watch me! How can I expose the school to that, huh? How can I be around other people when Snape might take it into his head that someone poses as a threat to me?" Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair, stopping with it in front of his face only to find it shaking. He clenched it into a fist. "I read that much about it. They are immediately absolved of any crime committed in defence of their donor."

"Harry-" Ron started when it was clear Hermione was having a difficult time just keeping in her tears.

"No, Ron. I'm not going back. And I'm not becoming an Auror either. I just… I can't."

Ron nodded. "It will be strange to go back without you, mate."

ermione was having a hard time just keeping in heHermione looked up from where she stared at the wall behind Harry's head. "Really?" she asked weakly, her face chalky white. Harry took pity on her and gently guided her to the chair next to Ron.

Ron snatched up her hand immediately and held it to his lips. "Really. If you go back, there's no way I'm going to spend a year without you."

They smiled at each other, seemingly forgetting all about Harry. He shifted uncomfortably, debating if he should just go back to reading but it was late and he still hadn't eaten anything yet today. His stomach made itself known in his stead.

Hermione giggled, finally at ease and excited once more.

"Oi!" Ron shouted. "We brought you food! Mum's food!"

Harry smiled gratefully when a number of large containers floated to the table from the spot near the door.

Hermione, now fully recovered from her heart-wrenching disappointment, went into a cupboard and pulled out a tiny vial. "Blood Replenisher. You should take this as often as you can." She stretched up and kissed Harry on the cheek. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

Harry smiled at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a half-hug. "S'kay Hermione."

She grinned up at him and said, "You better eat lunch before Ron gets into it again."

Harry chuckled as Ron turned around to face the table and shouted, "Hey!"


	9. Chapter 9

Warning: Another short chapter.

.IX.

The afternoon wore on quiet and peacefully. After he had eaten, Harry had foolishly accepted the challenge of a game of chess from Ron. He had little expectations of winning, but it still didn't help his ego as he watched as his pieces were picked off one by one, leaving the lone king to dance the final moves with very little hope. Neither did the cackling laughter as Ron purposefully led Harry a merry chase. Hermione sat in the study reading.

It was just before the dinner hour and after the boys switched to a game of exploding snaps, when Hermione shifted suddenly in her seat, causing a piece of parchment to crinkle loudly under her. Harry snickered, causing her to blush lightly.

"Ha Ha, very bloody funny," Hermione glared as she shifted and reached under her, and pulled out a very badly crinkled folded parchment. She looked at the slightly cracked seal and raised an eyebrow. "Harry? Did you know you got a letter from the Ministry?"

Harry leapt to his feet, eyes wide. "Uh… Oops?"

Hermione just rolled her eyes and thrust the parchment into his hands. "Is it that usual for you to get private missives from the Minister himself that you can ignore them?"

"Oh come on, Hermione. For one thing, it came only seconds before you yowled for me to go to the kitchen, and second, if I don't want to open my mail, it's my business!"

"_Yowled_!" she shrieked then caught herself and rolled her eyes. "Alright, it's your business. Now what does it say?"

Harry levelled a look at her.

Ron cleared his throat. "Now, now children, let's just calm down a bit, yeah?"

The bickering two turned their glare on Ron who choked. The twin glares turned suspicious before Hermione grinned suddenly. "Yes, yes, we're children. Now will you read the letter?" she pleaded with Harry.

Harry sighed in defeat and broke the seal. The letter flew out of his hands, unfurled and ruffled, almost like a bird who straightens his feathers. When it was finished smoothing its creases, it strengthened into a scroll and allowed Harry to handle it again. Upon it was pinned another piece of parchment. This read.

_Harry, please carefully consider the following. DO NOT venture into any action which may draw the public notice of your faux house imprisonment unless you are ready to face them once more. I highly recommend that you remain as you are for the time being. Also, your memories have been recorded for such events and will be returned to you shortly. Stay well. Kingsley. _

The informal note covered the detailed minutes from the Malfoy trial, including the hours of community service needed, fines and penalties which must be paid in full before they can rejoin the community in full capacity (Kingsley also added a few marginal notes, indicating which law to reference, most of which Harry didn't recognize). One item of note which was withheld from the small family was their ancestral manor. The wealthy Malfoys were now homeless.

"Lucius Malfoy was sentenced to ten years in Azkaban." Harry said suddenly. "And without the head of the family, they can't access their main vault and are unable to pay all the fines owed."

"Wouldn't Draco be the head now that his father is incarcerated?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged and handed her the scroll. She quickly skimmed it.

"Oh that's horrible! Transference of Family Head is usually passed on through death, but in the case of a living member passing on the title to their heir, a magical ceremony must take place. I'd forgotten how archaic the Wizarding World can be…" Hermione mused as if to herself. Her eyes flicked rapidly back and forth across the page. They widened once and she handed the scroll back to Harry. "Those ceremonies cannot take place within the prison as the wards do not allow for magical transference. As of the moment in which the trail was concluded, there is no Lord Malfoy to govern and protect the family. The name, therefore, is merely decoration. Even after the terms of service are finished, they won't be able to properly join the society until Lucius is released."

Harry scoffed. "So what? They will still be allowed in public, won't they? They just won't be in the same social circles they used to be, right?"

Hermione bit her lip, obviously conflicted. She knew and understood the implications, but like Harry, she was grew up in a muggle household, and those ideals were ingrained. There really wasn't any reason why the Malfoys wouldn't be able to survive like everyone else.

Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Um… that's not exactly all there is."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, instantly, demanding to know the more intricate dealings of the Wizarding World that still remain a mystery. Harry just grunted, staring once more at the scroll in front of him.

Ron blushed. "Well, we all know that there is no difference between pure, half and muggleborns… but most everyone, especially purebloods, think differently." Ron petered off, face red with embarrassment. "There are some… some businesses who won't, uh, _cater_ to those without proper status."

Ron away finally, as if he couldn't continue. As if there was some evil deed he himself was responsible for.

Harry, curiosity finally piqued, squatted down in front of the lanky red head's chair. "What is it? What's so bad?"

"Dumbledore never bothered, so it wasn't really a problem when he was around, or so my parents have always told us. And goblins never cared a wit about wizarding status… but now that he's gone and… and lots of families like Malfoy lost their place in society, it's just, most of them were able to pass on the title to their heir before being carted off to Azkaban to help regain…"

"Just spill it out Ron!" Hermione burst, obviously not able to take his rambles when there is a juicy, tantalizing piece of information just out of reach…

"Public services are cut from them, school and hospital included."

Harry fell back on his bum, legs sprawled awkwardly under him while Hermione slumped in her seat, staring in horrific disbelief at Ron. "But that's-."

"The way things are. You see, once a family falls from status, they cease to exist. Those codes which worked in their favour are no longer accessible." Ron was so hunched over that his forehead nearly touched his knees and his words came out muffled and sullen.

Harry and Hermione remained in stunned silence and the quite echoes in the room grew until they were deafening.

"What?" Ron snapped suddenly, "Haven't you ever wondered why being a blood traitor was such a bad thing to gits like Malfoy? Let me tell you, it had nothing to do with Voldemort!" He stood suddenly and stomped out of the room.

Hermione shook herself and scrambled to her feet. "Ron!" she called, chasing after him.

Harry stayed where he was, still holding the piece of parchment which detailed the extinction of an old family name. The note attached made more sense now, than it did fifteen minutes ago as he felt the first kindling of rage ignite.

He had just picked himself up off the floor and settled down in Ron's chair, idly shuffling the cards over and over when Hermione entered.

"He went home." She said. "Just to see his family. He promised it wouldn't be like last time."

Last time. That horrible time only a few months ago when Harry was certain he had lost his first and best friend. No, it couldn't be like last time. That would be the creation of the impossible.

Harry said nothing as he shuffled the cards again, loudly. Hermione sighed and sank down into the opposing chair. "Deal me in?" She asked.

Wordlessly, Harry dealt the allotted cards and began another game of exploding snaps.


	10. Chapter 10

Hello, hello! Here is Chapter Ten. As always, it is a very great pleasure to see how many people are interested in this story! I love seeing the numbers climb!

Thank you Whitetyger123. I'm afraid Snape only has a one liner in this one- however, we do meet someone else after such a long intro!

Warning! Melodramatic Harry.

.X.

Day Four

June 5th

It started to rain that night and carried on the next day. Harry spent the day in the library, slightly colder and mouldier than the study, but with a larger window to see the street. He wouldn't admit to it, but he was waiting for Ron to show up again.

Hermione was gone, having begged off staying with some excuse of returning to Hogwarts to help with any repairs before term started again in September. Apparently quite a few students returned for the summer months to lend a helping hand. There wasn't much that had to be done, as most of it was taken care of by the house elves, but certain, delicate magics were better preformed with a wand than elven magic. Harry didn`t care. His home, what he considered as home anyway, had been filled with such awful memories that he didn`t know if he could ever go back, not to mention the almost over powering desire to retrieve the resurrection stone from where he had dropped it a month ago. No, it was better to remain here, in the dank, mouldy house with the rain than return to Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest.

A cloaked figure suddenly turned the corner onto the short, dead end street. It paused briefly before walking briskly to a spot directly outside number twelve. The figure, blurred by the rain stared up at the house then moved its head back and forth, looking at the other numbers of eleven and thirteen. Just as quickly and suddenly as it walked up, it turned on its heel and left the short street behind. Harry made it to the door just in time to see it vanish beyond the corner. "Ron! Wait, Ron wait!" he yelled into the pouring rain. Impulsively, he bolted out of his house, and down the street, along the path he had seen the figure take.

That in itself was a mistake. Before he even made it to the end of the short block, heavily cloaked bodies surrounded him with cracks of apparition and he was seized instantly and dragged back into his house.

Harry fought, twisting and turning, scratching and kicking, trying to loosen the grip his captors had on his arms, now his legs. A hood was pulled down low over his face, preventing him from baring teeth and biting in desperation. Within moments, he was tossed roughly to the ground and the hood was pulled clear.

A small group of aurors stood before him, wands held low and at the ready should he attack them once more.

Harry spat, a wad of blood landing on the floor just inches away from the nearest auror's foot. He licked his lip, feeling where his tooth went through the skin in his struggle.

"Aw Potter, don't be like that. We're under orders not to let you out the front door. You know that, mate."

"Pergon you shit head! Look at my shift!" Harry pointed to his soaked pull over sweater and the ragged tear in the fabric. "And did Wells have to grope me so much? I'm going to have bruises on my arse."

Auror Wells looked down in shame as Pergon merely raised his brows. "That tear was there before, Potter, as you well know." He sounded annoyed, as the aurors in the "Potter Watch" usually did when speaking to him. "And if you didn't struggle so much, we wouldn't have to manhandle you all the time, ya blasted pillock!"

"Fine then! I'll just go out the back next time." Harry quipped, struggling to keep his anger at a reasonable level.

"See that you do!" Pergon snapped. He turned to the two rooky aurors and said, "Let's go." They opened the door and made to slip out then Pergon turned back. "And Potter. Do not be seen!" the door closed behind him with a bang, leaving Harry alone in the house once more.

"Fucking aurors." Harry muttered darkly as he made his way back into the library. The street was just as undisturbed as it was before the mysterious figure showed up and Harry leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands and watching the rain fall.

Harry was roused from his meditative (read: coma) state by a bang from outside. He focused his eyes just enough to see a car from one of the neighbours amble into their drive and turn off the engine. A portly woman eased out, wearing a prune coloured jacket a big black umbrella open to save her hair from the rain and a large beige handbag dangling from one arm. He watched in disconnected interest as she slipped a little on a pile of loose gravel and only saved her vast behind from meeting the ground with a well placed hand on the hood of her car. Harry grinned at the _ordinariness _of the whole situation.

He made up his mind. It was still a few hours until dark, leaving him plenty of time to get there. It would also give him an opportunity to get out of the house for the evening which was something he needed more than Snape actually needed blood before he surrendered to cabin fever and killed his friends in their bed… that is, if they ever showed up again.

Harry hurried to his room and returned to the kitchen with his long outdoors cloak which was spelled waterproof and his trainers. After slipping the gear on, grasping his wand firmly in hand and checking the wards carefully, he exited the house, rejoicing in the slightly dusty and metallic scent of city rain.

He was careful to avoid any of the usual traps placed around his house to prevent reporters from sneaking in, and him sneaking out. Though Auror Pergon has given his blessing for Harry to leave the house, it was said in jest. Kingsley had promised to revoke every protection made if Harry refused to stay within them. The house arrest was a joke, of course, but the assurance of privacy was not.

However, simple restrictions based on protection never before stopped Harry from doing as he pleased, and they were not about to now.

Quickly picking up the pace to a safe distance from his house and those of his neighbours, Harry stopped suddenly and turned on the spot, apparating directly into an old church yard and abandoned grave yard. Within minutes, Harry was standing in front of Snape's door, wondering exactly what he should do next. He shook of his cloak and looked to the sky. Cloudy, but not raining, thank goodness. With a nearly imperceptible groan, he sank down just on the door step to enjoy the closing day.

He wasn't there long, though the light dimmed slightly in that time when a rustling from inside the house drew his attention. He frowned at the sky. It was still nearly half an hour until sun set, maybe twenty minutes at the least. Snape shouldn't be awake just yet.

There was silence for the count of three hundred breaths when an even louder bang sounded, as if someone dropped something heavy on the ground.

"What an idiot!" Harry exhaled, standing and quickly spelling the door open. To rob the house… er, crypt of a vampire was nothing short of a death wish. Harry looked up at the darkening sky in one last plea of luck before entering the house as silently as he could.

To his surprise, it wasn't at all difficult. The rustling only grew louder. After a quick peak in the kitchen and sticking his head into the entrance of the cellar, Harry was able to determine the rather surprisingly clean atmosphere of the house which included a lack of dust and dirt. He also determined that the noise was not coming from either living room, kitchen or cellar. That only left one place, he thought as he looked toward to bookcase which hid the second set of stairs, the second floor.

Only once had Harry entered this house and that was the time which led him back, the encounter with vampire Snape. He didn't really feel right about snooping anymore into the man's… unlife? Undead life? whatever it was, he really didn't want to intrude.

Another large thump, directly above his head. However, the prospect of vampire, undead Snape waking up and finding an intruder in his house coupled with the rapidly fading sun, provided Harry with the courage to gently pull the bookcase away from the wall and creep up the stairs silently.

Four closed doors met his eyes. He turned to the left and watched the crack closely. There! A shadow passed over the faint light pouring from it. Harry adjusted his grip on his wand, counted down from five and threw all his weight against the door while twisting the knob with his left hand.

The intruder was caught behind the door and stopped it from crashing into the wall. The body let out a surprised, slightly pitched squeak which was oddly familiar. Harry trained his wand and allowed the door to be pushed closed.

His eyes bugged when the intruder looked up. "What the hell?" he hissed.

Harry took a step back before he could stop himself. "Malfoy?" he asked, incredibly.

Draco Malfoy shook his head, blinking slowly and looking dazed. "Wha- where… who in Salazar- Potter? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be under some house arrest?"

Harry backed up another step, this time to get a glimpse of the sky. Almost sundown. "You are beyond stupid, Malfoy," he muttered before taking a deep breath to question, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same thing, since this is _my_ house."

"Your…" Harry was only partially paying attention to the conversation now. Full sundown was in less than a minute. "This house…"

"Yes, the house, Potter. As in, it's mine and you shouldn't be here." Malfoy was leaning against the wall now with arms folded. "But it's not like you ever minded your own business. Always following me around, snooping, posing as my friends, don't think I never knew that was you! In second year, sneaking around looking like Goyle and… and Crabbe." Malfoy trailed off slightly before looking fiercely at Harry again. "Stealing my wand! You even had to put your nose in this too didn't you? Do I have some tracking spell on me, you perverted-"

The pearly glow behind the clouds faded even more and Harry was brought abruptly back to himself. He lurched forward and grabbed Malfoy by the shoulders, "You have to get out of here. Now!" he yelled in the taller boy's face, clinically noticing how his spittle spotted the pale cheek and bridge of that pointed nose.

The last light extinguished and Harry turned to stare in horror at the now black sky. "Too late." He moaned leaning heavily against Malfoy.

"Get off! Potter, get off me!" the blond yelled, trying to shove Harry off, but it was dead weight and Harry only moaned deeper in despair. "The hell, Potter? Get. Off."

"I would like," the dreaded voice spoke from behind, "to know what you are doing," here, the sneer was clearly evident in the tone, "_cuddling_ with my godson, Potter."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Alright then, another chapter for you. A grand big Thank You to whitetyger123 and TheXDarknessXWithinXMe. I'm glad you are both enjoying the story and thank you very much for your support! _

_Also, thanks to all you who alterted and favourited this story. _

_Onward to chapter eleven! _

_Warnings: More neckin' and some sillyness and Harry makes very poor judgements. _

.XI.

Harry jerked back, face red. "I was not… _not_… doing that… with him! I was trying to save him!" Harry pointed dramatically at the, well already pale but now practically transparent! Malfoy.

"Severus?" the blond boy asked. The question, idiotic in its own way, was ignored.

"Save him? Do you not think that I was fully aware of his entrance into my house earlier today? That I would rend my own godson for the sake of a few measly drops and a one way ticket to a second, more painful, death?"

The silky sound of Snape speaking both chilled Harry, like always, and warmed him as it brought back the much more recent memories of blood exchange. His face, if possible, grew hotter to the point of radiating heat.

"Well, but I thought the," a quick glance at Malfoy still staring morbidly at Snape, "you know, sleep prevented you from… uh."

"Ah, Yes. The spectacular ability for eloquence. I'd forgotten what being on the receiving end was like."

"You're alive?" Malfoy asked a little louder into the small silence, though it was once more ignored.

"Yeah, well aren't you all snark and roses? I thought I was doing you a favour since you didn't want to go longer than two days-"

"And I suppose you're self imposed house arrest was not a reason at all to once more venture out your door."

"Why you bloody…"

"Let us talk about blood, yes. I'd like that," Snape leered in return and Harry caught a glimpse of a single pointed fang. He gulped as his arousal came rushing back.

"What the hell is going on?" Malfoy yelled, apparently fed up with being ignored. Both Harry and Snape turned to the one teenager completely out of the loop.

"Mind your tone when speaking to me, Draco." Snape said silkily as his undead eyes remained unblinkingly fixed to his godson's face.

Harry snorted at the almost chastised looked that fell over Malfoy but was quickly silenced when a glared turned on him.

"I just want to understand, Severus." Malfoy whispered; his head only slightly bowed in submission. "What is _he_ doing here?"

Snape straightened his back. "Mr. Potter has obviously deemed it necessary to bring me my meal here in my home rather than allow me to, shall I say, _eat_ _out_."

This time he flashed both fangs, in full light, the yellowed electric bulb, and full view of Malfoy, who gaped right back.

"Damn, I never would have guessed that those rumours were true." Malfoy sounded awed and very impressed. Well, he would, when confronted with a powerful, dark creature that had no known interest in killing him.

Harry snorted again and was this time ignored as Snape took his turn to glare at his godson.

"There is no truth to that blasted rumour! Use your brain for once, child! I was buried in unholy ground, there, in the yard." Snape turned his head minutely to the window which showed a barely visible view of the church yard, and nodded.

Malfoy gapped then smacked his head. "Those idiots!"

"My sentiments exactly!" Harry exclaimed, and then slammed a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from agreeing with anymore of what _Malfoy_ says.

Malfoy looked annoyed and Snape had a well concealed trace of amusement in the back of his eyes. "What about him?" Malfoy asked, jerking his thumb towards Harry.

The amusement became more noticeable and Harry grew uneasy. "That is my meal."

Malfoy's eyes widened and he stared in horror at Snape before whipping his head around to Harry. "Oh fuck." He whispered. "I'm going to Azkaban after all if I witness this…"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't be a drama queen, Malfoy. Let's get this over with Snape." With that, Harry pushed passed Snape and swept out the door. He headed for the stairs but stopped as a hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up.

"This way," Snape said, firmly guiding Harry away from the stairs. He snuck a quick peek at the room which was now occupied by Malfoy, but the door was firmly shut. Harry relaxed and allowed his body to be guided to another bedroom, this one furnished with a single bed.

Snape released Harry upon entering the room and closed the door behind him. He waved at the walls. "A silencing charm, if you please." He sneered. "You were quite… vocal last time."

Harry blushed as his arousal, undampened by the confrontation, pulsed in excitement. The tingling in his stomach grew and leaked southward. Flicking his wand and muttering the correct incantation, Harry dropped it on the floor and left it to be buried by his pullover, shirt and trainers. Standing in nothing but warn black socks and trousers a bit too big, Harry shifted, unsure of how to proceed.

Snape did nothing but raise a single, sardonic eyebrow at the apparent eagerness of the teen before gliding closer. He bent his head to the side of Harry's neck without preamble and licked. Harry shivered at the warm, wet muscle siding over his flushed skin. He moaned aloud at the prick of pain as twin fangs slid home and then the seal formed by the lips and the harsh suction as blood was drawn from the wound.

Harry was pressed against the bed, gripping tightly to Snape's shoulders, preventing himself from relaxing upon it and forcing his body to stay taut and stiff to keep as much contact with the vampire as he could manage. His eyes closed and his gasps of breath turned into desperate pants and his hips jerked against Snape's for friction. Snape shifted once, efficiently causing Harry to lose his balance and fall to the bed where he followed, proving with one strategically placed thigh that this position was much more conducive. Harry moaned louder as he reached his peak and fell, crashing to the ground just as Snape gave his neck a final lick.

Snape brought up one long pale hand and tore into his own skin, allowing Harry to drink uninhibited. Only moments later, Snape pulled away and left the room. Harry didn't notice, however. He allowed the combinations of the sensory stimulations and blood pull him swiftly under, enjoying the lassitude and warmth of his body. Harry fell asleep.

A hand on his shoulder woke him up. The sky outside was complete dark, making the glare from the light harsh against Harry's eyes. He hissed and rolled over, hiding his face.

"Shit, Potter. Wake up!"

"Turn off the damn light, idiot." Harry bit out, voice muffled by the pillow.

The light was extinguished and Harry instantly relaxed. He looked up, seeing the luminous blond hair of Malfoy.

"What do you want?" Harry snapped, sitting up and feeling his underwear pull uncomfortably over his groin. He groaned.

"Are you okay? I thought that Snape… well he…"

"He fed, I'm safe. Now will you leave me alone? I need to shower." Harry rubbed a hand over his neck, wincing in disgust as he encountered sticky, not dried blood.

Malfoy's eyes followed the movement, squinting slightly as if trying to see better. Harry stared at the blond for a long moment, trying to discover what he was thinking. One thing he could tell, Malfoy was terrified. He was a bloody, blubbering baby. Harry was sure that if he saw the actual act in play, he would snap from what little mental stability he had and go mad. _Weak_ was the word whispered in his brain.

Malfoy looked down carefully, plucking at his shirt then looked to the floor at his socks. He pointed down. "What colour are those?"

Harry screwed up his face. "Your socks? What on earth are you playing at?" Harry sneered, the expression startling unfamiliar. "Are you colour blind, Malfoy? Your pureblood inbreeding do damage to your genes that you can't tell what the colour blue is anymore?"

"Blue?" Malfoy asked and Harry chuckled.

"You _are_ colour blind aren't you?" Harry asked in faked amazement.

"It's like pitch in here, Potter. So unless you could always see in the dark, I think there is something more urgent than the question of genealogy to address." Malfoy shifted uneasily. "Severus left. He said he was going to get fresh air and possibly a midnight snack."

Harry started violently. "He can't-"

"Merlin, Potter. Take a joke, will you? No way he would be that stupid." Malfoy hastened to say and scoffed lightly then sobered. "How long?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

"How long have you been feeding Severus?" Malfoy clarified as his face grew intense.

Harry glared. "What's it to you?"

Malfoy leapt forward, gripping Harry's bare shoulders tightly in his hands. "If you think for one moment, Potter, that you are _safe_ here, think again! I won't kill you because Severus would murder me if I do, but that doesn't mean that I can't _hurt_ you. Now tell me, how long?"

Harry gulped and Malfoy released him, retreating only a couple of steps. Harry put his hands up on his shoulders, rubbing out the feeling of the other boy's hands upon them. "A week? No… less, I think. This is the- uh- third feeding. He, uh, woke up on the, the second." Harry stepped back as Malfoy stepped forward.

"And he feeds you each time?" he demanded.

Harry stumbled and looked down, realizing that he tripped over his own shirt and shoes. His wand rolled out. He debated whether or not he could snatch it before Malfoy noticed.

"Does he?"

"Yeah, yeah he does!" Harry yelled. "I also take blood replenisher if you're so interested in my health!"

Malfoy wrinkled his nose then turned away. "You reek, Potter. Go take your shower." He turned around and swept out the door.

Harry frowned and shook his head, picking up his fallen clothes and wand before going to search out the bathroom.

After finding one bathroom without a shower, Harry nearly gave up. The house, while being quite small, was laid out in the most confusing manner. It almost remained Harry of Hogwarts. Almost. However, after one glance at his blood splattered reflection and the sudden need to repress the urge to vomit (Harry didn't even want to contemplate how _easy_ it was to repress!) He decided his need for cleanliness demanded the discovery of a proper bathroom.

In the end, he found it on the ground floor, just left of the kitchen. Why a bathroom would be stationed there, he had no idea. When he emerged from the shower, wearing clothes that have gone through so many _Scourgifies_ that they began to fray, it was to find Malfoy sitting at the table with two steaming cups and a vial of deep red liquid. Harry shook the still damp hair from his eyes and sat down slowly, eyeing both vial, cup and Malfoy with suspicion.

"I'm not stupid, you know." Malfoy spoke when the silence grew tangible.

Harry raised his brows. "Neither am I," he replied.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, picked up the cup resting in front of Harry and, keeping his eyes on the dark haired teen, took a slow, defiant sip. He made a show of swallowing the steaming liquid with the barest of winces before setting it back where it was.

Harry narrowed his eyes and picked up the cup, sniffing it carefully, as if he would recognize the scent of some poison or other but only taking in the scent of very strong coffee. He took a sip, though with a grimace.

"It needs sugar." Harry stated, before even putting the cup down. "And cream."

Malfoy shrugged and drank from his own cup before gesturing to the vial. "Better drink that, even if you don't need it. A little extra won't hurt you."

"Why?"

Malfoy didn't answer, only stared at Harry in an eerily disturbing way.

"Okay then, Malfoy. Tell Snape he can come to me next seeing as I'm not welcome here." Harry stood, leaving cup and vial where they sat. He bent forward to level his face with Malfoy's. "It was _not_ a pleasure."

He straightened and turned to leave.

"Wait." It was quiet and slightly sullen but Harry turned back, waiting impatiently for Malfoy to continue. He didn't.

"I don't have time for these games!" Harry burst out, suddenly. "What do you want?"

Malfoy looked down at the cup nestled in his hands. "I know what you did for Snape," he said quietly. "I- thank you for … helping him. He- you didn't have to. You owe nothing."

Harry released a pent up breath and stalked back over to his chair, sitting down roughly. "I owe more to him than you would believe." He mumbled, not sure if Malfoy heard him or not. He took a breath. "Blame it on my ignorance, then. I didn't _mean_ to… it all _happened_ to… and he just…" a short pause and then, "You should be thanking Snape, not me. If he didn't stop… I guess it was just his instinct to protect me." Harry mumbled the last.

"You guess correctly." Both Harry and Malfoy turned their heads to the looming presence instantaneously filling the room. Snape stood, imposing and impeccable just inside the door leading to the back. His black eyes flickered between the two teens and he smirked. "If only I had known what it would take for you to behave in the company of the other sooner." He said, mockingly. His eyes hardened and fixed, unblinkingly, on Harry. "I would have thought you would have taken leave by now. Do so." Harry remained where he was, confusion etching its way across his face. "Immediately," was added in that odd little hiss, an aspect belonging only to the vampire.

Harry rolled his eyes and slowly stretching, arching his neck and displaying the pale column to Snapes sharp gaze. "See you later, Draco." He drawled. He took a couple of steps nearer Snape.

"Don't be a fool, Potter." Malfoy whispered urgently behind him but Harry paid him no heed, and kept his eyes fastened to Snape's face.

"Yes, Harry. Do not play the fool, even though it comes abnormally natural to you." Snape responded silkily, intrigue written clear across his brow.

Harry smirked, having little to no idea what possessed him to act so frivolously toward Snape. The thought that it might be, well, _dangerous_ to antagonize a vampire never entered his mind until he actually left the house. But at that moment, Harry relaxed his stance, looking up at Snape who still towered over him impressively and inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of the undead. It was intoxicating!

"See you soon, Professor." He breathed, fluttering his eyelashes and tilting his head just _so_ to better display the juncture of his neck and the large artery he could feel fluttering away under the old scars.

Harry slipped out the door and walked perhaps twenty paces before coming up short. He spun back to face the house he just left and stared in horror. "Oh shit!"

He quickly spun on the spot and apparated away.

_A/N: A little shameless promotion: I posted another story entitled "Death Becomes Him." Check it out if you wish. _


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Happy New Year to all you lovely people. Thank you so much for all those who are following this little monstrosity of a fic. It will get just a bit more monstrous! _

_A great give thank you to __**whitetyger123**__and __**TheBlondeWeasley**__ for your reviews and encouragement! _

_Another long intermission between updates so here are two more chapters. Enjoy. _

Warnings: Hermione is bored, Harry is becoming obsessed about Slytherins and Draco learns how to fly out a window!

.XII.

Day 5

June 6th

"Do you want to play cards?"

Harry grunted.

"A game of chess?"

Another grunt.

"Are you hungy?"

Grunt.

"Thirsty?"

Grunt.

"Horny?"

Choke. "Hermione!"

"Ah, it speaks!" Hermione crowed sarcastically.

"Never," Harry gasped out, "And I mean, _never!_ say… that word!... again!"

"Which word? Horny?"

"Arrghh!" Harry screamed, covering his ears with his hands and ducking his head. There was very little that bothered him, word wise, but hearing Hermione say anything to do with _that_, and Harry regressed to a young, very young teenager.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's a natural process, Harry. You can't tell me you're still shy even after Snape-"

His head snapped up. "Never mention that man and me in that _that_ way again! God, Hermione, do you want to scare me to death?"

Hermione frowned. "But I thought you… don't you…? I'm sure I read that…" she trailed off, looking confused and beaten. She looked up suddenly, eyes wide in shock. "Oh my god!" she said. "You've never-"

"No." Harry bit out harshly. What did Hermione expect? He had always thought that once the war was over, he and Ginny would… but _that_ was never going to happen now. And who else did he even come into contact with? Five, six different people at most and the majority of them he couldn't stand (Kingsley, the aurors). He thought of Hermione and Ron and shuttered.

"But Snape-" Harry blanched.

It was one thing to use the man's leg as a rutting post as his blood was sucked, but to-to do _that_ with him… it was unthinkable! He didn't want contact, other than, well… but no more than that, surly!

He shook his head and Hermione snapped her mouth shut, tightening her lips to whiteness. She nodded, once. "Fine, no more on that subject."

Harry looked out the window where it was pissing down rain again. After the brief reprieve in the weather, the near constant crummy weather of London was really beginning to irk him. Plus he was bored and Hermione was driving him up the wall.

"So what do you want for dinner tonight." She asked, picking up the aimless questions right where she left off. Harry buried his head in his hands.

* * *

><p>Closer to seven, when whatever Hermione was making in the kitchen (something instant, easy and large in quantity) was almost ready, the front door slammed open.<p>

Harry jumped, startled out of his sulk and went careening to the parlour. The imposing cloaked figure stood uncertainly in the doorway and Harry grinned. "Ron!"

Ron lowered his hood and shuffled from foot to foot. "Yeah, hi. Sorry." He mumbled but Harry just laughed and crushed his friend into a hug.

"Don't worry about it! Now you can go lay Hermione." He whispered. "She's driving me up the wall!"

"Ehhhem" Harry froze and turned around guiltily to where Hermione was standing, tapping her foot on the floor.

Ron cleared his throat, covering what suspiciously sounded like a strangled laugh. "Do you think she heard me?" Harry asked him, not so quietly.

"Yeah, mate. She heard you." Amusement coloured his voice though he blushed from Harry plea.

Harry nodded sadly, manoeuvring slowly to situate Ron so that he was between Harry and Hermione. Harry gave him a shove, causing him to stumble over. "Go help her release her pent up rage!" he laughed as he leapt sideways, away from Hermione's hex which hurled his way.

He bounded up the stairs, hearing an angry, "Harry James Potter!" as he went. He chuckled to himself and entered his bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind him. He would give them an hour or so before heading down for dinner. No need to interrupt what could be a rather messy reunion between the couple.

He turned to face the interior of his room and froze. There, just outside his (open!) window was an owl.

No post, no matter how urgent, should have been sent to his house. Without the Fidelius Charm on the house anymore, and only newly activated, though not complete, blood wards, the Ministry included complicated wards which was supposed to keep out anything except people in the know, even insects couldn't get in (Snape, for obvious reasons was excluded). So how was this owl able to get past the perimeter of the wards? Harry cautiously approached the owl and reached out his arm. The minute he did so, it flew into the house and transformed.

"Merlin, Potter. Did it have to take so long for you to let me in? I've been sitting out there for ages and, what do you know, you have wards that only let the _invited_ enter. Bloody poster boy!"

Harry gaped. And gaped again. "_Malfoy_! What the hell are you doing here? How did you find here?"

The blond Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Nice to see you too, Scarhead. Your boyfriend sent me, just before sunrise, mind you, to give you this."

Harry caught the tossed vial before it hit the ground. "The wards…"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Blood wards, not for you but for the Black family and their lord. I only needed the invite, as I do have Black blood." He appraised Harry disdainfully, "far more than what you have if I remember my bloodlines correctly."

Harry squirmed uncomfortably, not wanting to answer. Instead, he held up the vial and asked, "What's this?"

"It's supposed to be more potent than the stuff you've been taking." Malfoy turned to the window. "And he told me to tell you that he's going to try and go three days without. Don't miss him too much."

Harry blinked in astonishment at the vial in his hands. It wasn't the usual red, but a deep navy blue the same colour as the sky just after dusk. There was a roll of parchment wrapped around the base of the glass, instructions on its use.

"Thanks." Harry heard himself say. Malfoy just scoffed.

"Whatever, Potter." Malfoy stood quite still for a moment, as if settling in to change again, but Harry held out his hand.

"Wait!" Malfoy looked back and raised an eyebrow. Harry unbalanced due to the sudden déjà vu from last night. "Um," he stumbled. "Stay for dinner?" he asked.

For a moment, just a moment, Malfoy blinked in shock before his face shuttered closed. "Dinner?" he repeated.

Harry grinned suddenly. "Yeah, Ron just came back and he and Hermione will most likely be all over each other. If you stay, they can't be. See?"

"I think Severus took a little too much from you last night." Malfoy stated, staring at Harry as if he had two heads before he took on a rather pensive air that was more show than thinking. He sighed. "But since Severus has nothing even remotely edible and I've lived on mice for much too long as is, I'll stay."

Harry bowed mockingly managing to swallow the knot in this throat from that unexpected reminder of Sirius and opened the door for Malfoy, feeling odd and reckless- somewhat like he had felt last night. He shook his head and guided Malfoy down the hall, feeling giddy and light headed. Being around Snape and now Malfoy was doing terrible things to his sanity. He even swore that he could hear Malfoy roll his eyes even though he was turned away.

"So," Harry began conversationally, bouncing the potion vial in his hand as they walked. "How long have you been an Animagus?" He slowly led the way to the kitchen, taking the longer route through the front stairs and the parlour rather than the stairs connecting directly with the kitchen.

He turned back to watch Malfoy hesitate and suck in a startled breath, as if he really wasn't expecting the question, even after he transformed _right in front _ofHarry not five minutes ago. The taller teen bit his lip then said, "Two months." He said shortly then quietly admitted, "Though I've only been able to change on command without meditation these past few days. The wards surrounding the holding cells at the Ministry prevent that sort of thing." He face hardened. "If you breathe even a word, Potter-"

"Yeah, yeah. You'll kill me a painful death. Got it." Harry slowed as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Harry bit his lip. "Look," he started. "Ron and Hermione don't blame you for anything that happened over the past year and before… but, well, you know Ron."

Malfoy paled at Harry's words, as if just realizing that he was about to be shoved into a room surrounded by people he and his family held captive and even tortured. Malfoy stopped walking.

Harry turned around, frowning. "What is it?"

"What do you think? I can't go in there!" Malfoy said and clamped down on his tongue, trying to get some control over the hysteria bubbling in his chest.

"Oh for- come on! They won't kill you! I just told you to warn you that there might be some awkwardness and not to feel self conscious over it. It's just bloody dinner!"

"Stop talking about blood! Merlin I'm going to be sick."

Harry cracked a smile and turned to face Ron who came up to see what the commotion was about. "Ron." Harry breathed. He looked over his shoulder at Malfoy who stood frozen, staring in terror at the red headed man. Yeah, Ron could be pretty imposing, especially considering he hasn't shaved in weeks and he towered over Malfoy by at least four inches, if not more and outweighed him by a good forty pounds of what Harry knew to be mostly muscle.

"Harry," Ron said rolling his eyes. "Should I ask why there is a slimy snake standing right behind you?"

Harry's grin grew. "Nope!" he said cheerfully and Ron groaned, seeming to drape himself against the wall dramatically.

Ron's face screwed up in agony. "Please, Harry. I can't take it anymore. I love you mate, but I'm starting to question the guys you keep bringing home!"

Harry frowned a little in confusion, knowing that there was something in that sentence but not _quite_ reaching it. Apparently Malfoy was just as fast on the uptake as always as his drawl behind Harry stalled his questions. "Well, well, Potter. Do you have a thing for all 'guys' or just Slytherins if you keep 'bringing us home?'"

Harry blushed at the insinuation and spun heatedly on Malfoy but a chuckle drew him up short. He turned his glare on Ron. "Shut up, you."

"What?" Ron asked, innocently. "He does have a point, you know. First Snape, and now Malfoy?"

"I hate my life!" Harry moaned as if in pain and it grew even louder as Malfoy said:

"I can't believe you actually laughed at something I said, Weasel!"

"If you call me that again, you'll have more to worry about than me just sharing a laugh over my best friend's sexual identity crisis."

"Oh? Sexual identity crisis, is it? I think I may have to hear more about this." Draco leered.

Ron's eyebrows shot up and he grimaced. "You might do more than 'hear' about it, if you get my drift." By the end of the sentence he actually sounded ill at the thought of it, but it was that resigned kind of ill, like when you've eaten too many sausage rolls and the next half hour spent in the bathroom was the inevitable price to pay.

"Oh shut up!" Harry yelled, stomping past Ron to the kitchen. Traitors- the lot of them!

* * *

><p>Everyone sat on a different side of the square table, eating in complete silence. Harry had barely managed to warn Hermione when a crash came from the hall and she went running out in time to find Ron and Malfoy rolling on the ground, throwing punches and knees into any soft place they could find. Ron's wand lay a few feet away as if thrown there in the midst of the sudden heat. Harry didn't even want to speculate what had happened after the almost playful banter between the boys to have them end up like this. It had taken a few well chosen spells on Hermione's part and a scowl from Harry with a light warning directed to Malfoy concerning the Ministry to have everything quiet and put to rights once more.<p>

However, that did not stop the sullen, angry, assuredly awkward silence resonating over the table while they ate.

Ron was angry at Malfoy for whatever reason and only a little resentful to Harry for bringing home a ferret as he muttered angrily when forced back into the kitchen by Hermione.

Hermione was stricken with the sight of Malfoy in the place she considered a sanctuary from the outside world and peeved at Ron for behaving like a child.

Malfoy was pissed off at the whole situation, hating Ron for personal prejudice and old habit, disgusted at Hermione for close to the same but also for the fact that she had managed to cook a delicious, though _muggle_, dish of food. Lazy Man's Chicken Cordon Blue even satisfied a Malfoy's taste buds (though like he said before, after mice, any food was a treat!). He was also annoyed with Harry for inviting him to dinner even when he had done absolutely nothing to deserve it. And he was resented being annoyed for such a pathetic reason.

Harry was sullen. He was tired of Hermione's bickering, Ron's jealousy and the way the redhead had only to smile for his anger to be forgotten. He was confused about his strange changes in mood and the reasons for them, which he could not always identify correctly. He was sick of being in the blasted house. He was shocked at how simple it was for Ron and Malfoy to get along at his expense and he was worried that there might be something more to their joke then even they realized. Maybe it was-

But no, there was Ginny. There was always Ginny. Even if she still couldn't stand to have his name said in front of her. Harry needed out but he wasn't allowed out yet… not until he-

It was just past eight when Malfoy who picked slowly at his food, as if unsure whether or not to eat it, finally put down his fork.

He looked over at Hermione with his chin slightly lifted and Harry could tell that he was looking over her head and not in her face. "Thank you for the dinner, Ms Granger. It was surprisingly edible." Somewhat biting gratitude delivered in an entirely too formal tone of voice startled the three best friends.

Hermione, the first to recover, blinked in surprise. "Oh. No problem. It was my turn to cook, that's all."

He nodded. "I must be on my way. Thank you for the invite, Potter." Malfoy stood up and nodded his head briefly. "Weasley."

"I'll, um, see you out." Harry said, uncertainly. What was going on now?

He led Malfoy quickly up the back staircase and to his room where he gestured to the open window. "Before you fly off," Harry started, ignoring the glare sent his way. "I know there isn't much you can do, but thank you for being polite tonight. You are welcome back here any time." Harry looked away, briefly wondering what the hell was wrong with him for making such a suggestion! "I… uh, think that it will get better."

"What can be better, Potter, when I am _so_ terribly happy? I will always remember mooching off a Weasley and a Mu-ggleborn." The sarcasm was thick but it broke into shame as Malfoy's sentence dwindled, voice breaking on the word _mudblood_, efficiently chocking it off.

Harry smiled. "You're starting already, aren't you? See you later." Harry watched in interest as Malfoy's shape shrank and twisted until nothing but an owl perched on the floor awkwardly. Malfoy hopped uncomfortably and spread his wings, casting on last confused glare over his shoulder at Potter before winging away.

"See ya, Malfoy." Harry said quietly out the open window. He closed and latched it shut.


	13. Chapter 13

Warning! Life altering decisions on Harry's part. Finally! Also... Short chapter ahead!

.VIII.

"What the hell was he doing here, Harry?" Hermione demanded when he entered the kitchen again. Harry shrugged and started stacking the dishes on the table. It was his turn to do the clean up, as they took turns. "Harry!" Hermione screeched.

He looked up at her. "Yes?" he asked blandly.

She huffed. "What is wrong with you?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, picked up a dirty plate from the table and dropped it on the floor. It smashed with a resounding crash. Ron, who was just emerging from the downstairs bathroom entered the kitchen. "Whoa! What's going on?" He was ignored.

"What's wrong with me?" Harry snapped. "I wonder what's wrong with me." He picked up another plate and dropped that one. "I'm under house arrest for defeating an evil wizard who plagued our world for the last, oh fifty years or so, just so I can get some privacy and rest. My girlfriend is a raving lunatic," ("Harry!" yelled Hermione as Ron paled.) "who can't even hear my name without having an episode." He picked up another plate and added that to the mess. "I have a vampire who used to be the most horrible teacher I've ever had, including Umbridge- don't look at me like that Ron!- I also find out that he has a thing for my mum where, years after she's dead, he's still pining for her and that was the only reason he saved my life all those times."

"But Harry-" Ron started, cutting himself short with the glare Harry sent him.

His hands hovered over the fourth plate. "Now I practically hump his leg every time he feeds from me! Is that not twisted or something?"

"No, no its-" Hermione tried.

"Is it a wonder that I would jump at the chance of having someone _else_ someone of my own choosing to talk to? I'm not allowed to go out in public, least someone sees me and figures out that I`m not actually house arrested and then I'm mobbed for being famous and despised for surviving when others who clearly deserved to live more than me, died. I`m not ready to face them but I`m going crazy here! I need to get out of this house before what happened to Sirius happens to me."

Harry slumped and looked at the broken shards of glass on the floor. His lip twitched and he pulled out his wand. "_Reparo_." He muttered, watching as the dishes rose up and mended themselves. He stacked them again and brought them over to the sink, running the hot water to fill the sink.

"Harry. Are you going to be okay?" He felt Ron come up beside him and sighed.

"I don't know, Ron. It's hard. It's just so hard." Harry felt his eyes burn and he pressed one soapy hand over it.

"Maybe it's time to come out."

Harry looked in alarm at Ron, who stared determinedly back. "What?" he mouthed, no sound able to escape.

"It might be time." Ron shrugged.

Harry steadied himself, trying to calm his breathing and achieve the same level of bland that he maintained throughout the confrontation. He managed finally, to clear his throat. "But if I do, I'll be- this place will be crawling- all those people wanting to know_ what happened!_"

Ron shrugged. "Then you leave." He said. "Stay with someone else."

"Where? The Burrow…"

"No, not the Burrow." Ron smile was tinted with sorrow. "We'd love to have you mate, but I don't think you'd want to be there right now."

"Then where?" Harry asked in defeat.

""Why don't you go talk to Andy? You know she would love to have you, and I started looking for places to live so you can always stay with me and Hermione." Ron's smile turned into a grin, chipping away the sadness as his mind was pulled away from home. "Think about it? We'd have our own place to make our own memories! And with you out, think of the parties!" His eyes took on a very distant look and Harry grunted.

"I think not, mate. Even with Silencing Charms, a flat would be too small."

Ron blushed and shrugged, embarrassed but unapologetic. He was finally 'getting some' and as long as Hermione was agreeable, he wasn't going to change that even for Harry.

Harry sighed. "I'll go talk to Kingsley. At least this way, he won't be on my case anymore."

"And Andy?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, and I'll talk to Andy." He ran a hand threw his hair. "You know, you and Hermione don't mind the mess the reporters and owls will make, you're welcome to stay here. I'll be back when the heat dies down anyway."

Ron grinned. "No way am I staying here with owls shitting everywhere. I'd say you would be better off just setting up impervious wards or something."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Can't Ron, remember? The damn structure can't take many more wards, and only the ministry wards set _around_ the property really keep anything out." He chuckled. "When everything cools down, I'll be erecting those perimeter wards… I just have to wait until the place isn't under surveillance anymore."

"Uh, mate? You do know that's illegal, right?" Ron asked tentatively.

"That's why I have to wait." Harry replied with a wink.

Ron raised his brows. "Alright. I promise to send you some of mum's baking in Azkaban."

"I just hope my cell isn't close to Malfoy's or Umbridge's. That would be really awkward."

"And I really hope you don't do what I'm thinking, Harry. I'd hate to testify against you."

Ron and Harry looked up to see Hermione standing in the doorway with a guilty expression. She shuffled in when no outraged accusation started. "I… I'm sorry, Harry. It's just, seeing him in this house… it scared me."

"He did nothing wrong." Harry said, referring to the last two years. "He's even more lonely than me, Hermione. You should see him in that house. It's so… dank, I guess."

"Oh I'm so sorry Malfoy has to learn how to live in poverty." Hermione snarled abruptly, before taking a deep breath and muttering "Sorry."

"Hermione…"

"I know, I am sorry. I just, I can't forget okay? It's always there, it's… it was terrible, with him standing there. It wasn't him, I know but he just stood there. Him and his mother-" she clamped her lips shut and winced, trembling a little. "That's horrible isn't it? I'm awful!"

Harry took a step forward but help back when he saw Ron make the same movement. He stepped back and watched as Ron gripped Hermione by the arms, whisper in her ear and rub her back soothingly. She took a deep breath, one that shook her frame and nodded her head. Harry, well practiced in tempering down his jealousy, suddenly had an entirely new thought in his mind. Would it be so weird if…

Thoughts flashed, quicker than he could control them. Events that have happened over the past week, and the sole fact that he had gone further with Snape than he had ever gone with Ginny –

"Oh fuck!" he said suddenly, causing Ron and Hermione to look up at him. "I'm gay!"

To his shame, and annoyance, Hermione giggled (giggled!) and Ron asked, quiet stupidly, "You just found that out?"

Harry stumbled forward, his soapy hands slipping forward, providing no traction and Harry followed them until he was half sprawled out on the table as his legs gave out on him. Everything, everything that had happened between him and Snape, actually felt good! Sure, it felt good because he got off, but it was more than that. The hard frame, dominating body pressed oppressively over him. The way he looked forward to every feeding as if it were more than providing Snape with a meal. If that was it, why the hell didn't he offer to just send over a pint or so? That would hold Snape over for a few days, wouldn't it? And the teasing, the damned teasing from Ron and Malfoy that hit that cord within him that he couldn't comfortably examine.

He didn't even want to begin to analyze his relationships with Cho and Ginny as those were disgustingly obvious in their own right.

Then Ron's comment finally sunk in and he found himself on his feet once more. "What do you mean I 'just found that out?'" Harry demanded. Then he thought and his eyes widened. "Oh fuck! Has it been that obvious? Does everyone know?"

Ron could only gap and Hermione cleared her throat, hiding what _could have_ been another giggle. "No, no, Harry." She said quickly. "It's just that, we know you and that's what I've…" she lost her playful half smile and swallowed almost painfully. "I… if you're happy with Malfoy… I guess, that's why it's so hard… after what happened-"

"Wait!" Harry cut her off. "Malfoy? You think that this is about Malfoy? Oh God!" he buried his face in his hands. "Oh God! Malfoy!"

Hermione looked at Ron in alarm and mouthed, 'What did I say?'

Ron shrugged and said, "I can take a guess."

Harry moaned loudly into his hands, embarrassment seeping out of him in droves. "Malfoy would be better, wouldn't he? I mean, at least he's _alive!_"

Hermione, quick as ever, changed course instantly. "It's more common than not for the donor and vampire to be involved, Harry. There are almost always strong sexual desires involved. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Harry lifted his head, pale, shaking and slightly feverish. Overwhelming sorrow and grief played over his face. "Oh God, Ron. Ginny-"

"Is going to live in Romania with Charlie. I was told when I went back and was going to tell you tonight. It's the only reason why I tried to convince you to leave house arrest." Ron explained gently. "The war was just headline news there. It'll be good for her to leave Britain and she did brilliantly in Care of Magical Creatures. She'll fit right in with taking care of the brutes."

Harry smiled a little at that, fully agreeing that his fiery ex girlfriend would more than be a match for a fire breathing dragon once she was trained up a bit. He shook his head. "So you guys really don't hate me?" he implored, staring at Hermione. "I promise I won't fall in with Malfoy! I mean, it's Malfoy!"

"And Snape is Snape," Hermione reasoned. "But don't promise anything to me, Harry. Never do that to yourself."

He grimaced but nodded determinedly. "Deal."

"Are you talking to Kingsley tomorrow?" Ron asked suddenly, changing topic.

"First thing." Harry promised with a slight smile at Hermione's eye roll. He thought for a moment then asked, slightly horrified. "Is that why you were so nice to him, Ron?"

The snickering did nothing for Harry's self-esteem.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Hello, wonderful slaves- I mean, readers. I have another chapter for you and the brain-washing will be complete! Eh em. Goodness, I am mistyping quite a bit! What I meant to say was this chapter is a reward for my faithful readers and it is innocently going to lure you into a sense of false- very real!- Security! _

_Really, you follow all that, kudos to you!_

_Big warm fluffy thankyous to the reviews from last chapter: captain kinna, Ferchu-7775, and whitetyger123. In regard to the questions, well... you will just have to wait and see, now won't you? ;) I promise! There is a plan... or at least some major touch points._

_ON WITH THE SHOW!_

_Warnings: I hope you like cheese, 'cause there is lots of it!... and I might have made up a word or two... but I take creative licence! _

.XIV.

Day 6

June 7th

"The wards will be down by noon." Kingsley stated. "It would be better for everyone involved if you agree to an interview before long, Harry. Or it won't matter where you choose to hide next."

"Thank you, Minister." Harry said formally, shifting in his chair in front of the large ornate desk. "I have a place to go and since it's in a fully muggle area, access there would be limited." He looked to the side and muttered, "I hope."

The dark skinned man smiled. "You've taken Andy up on her offer then? She'll be thrilled."

Harry blushed slightly. "Um… I haven't talked to her about it yet…"

Kingsley chuckled. "I'm sure she'll still be more than pleased." He sighed the parchment in front of him with a flourish and waved his wand at it. Harry watched in forebodance as it rolled with a snap and a seal of pure magic formed over the crease. "Get ready and be out of the house before noon. That will give you a little time to settle in with Andromeda until you are demanded for an interview." His smile lit his eyes without curving his lips upward, stunning Harry with the expressiveness he had never before seen on the Wizard's face. "Now get out of my sight."

Harry grinned. "Sure thing, Arsewipe!"

He jumped into the Floo just before Kingsley could reply with anything harsher.

* * *

><p>"Uh, Andy?"<p>

"Harry! It's so nice to hear from you. How are you, dear?"

"Good, good. Um, I was actually wondering if your offer was still open."

"My offer? To live with us?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Of course it is! When did you want to move in?"

"Before noon?"

* * *

><p>"We'll miss seeing you every day Harry!" Hermione said as she squeezed him against her one last time.<p>

"Me too guys, but we can still meet up, you know." Harry eased out of her arms with a quick side step and turn to face Ron. It was then he noticed the slightly tense silence.

"Um…" Hermione said when he looked at her. Ron simply scuffed his foot on the floor. "Since neither of us really have a proper place to stay, we've decided that it's time to…"

"You're leaving! Just when I finally come out of seclusion you're leaving me!" Harry demanded, shocked and hurt that they would leave at the slightest notion of him not needing them anymore. They only had just over two months before they were going back to their final year, leaving him alone for certain!

Hermione just scowled at him lightly. "We're going to get my parents, Harry. Remember them? The dentists I obliviated a year ago?"

"Oh, sorry." Harry said sheepishly, colouring a bit in embarrassment. "I forgot."

Hermione's face softened slightly. "I know, Harry, and I'm sorry you've never had that. Maybe you should talk to your aunt-"

He snorted. "That would go over well. 'Hey Aunt Petunia, Harry here, remember the baby you didn't want? Well that crazy psycho didn't kill me and I'm still alive! Can we bond now?'"

Ron chuckled and slapped Harry on the back. "Sure, mate. Whatever."

Harry grinned. "Go get your parents, Hermione. And," he glared hard at Ron who looked slightly alarmed. "If you so much as _think_ about eloping, I will hunt you down and gut you if I'm not best man!" the glare, intensely manufactured, shattered as his best friends blushed brightly with mumbled promises and indignations.

Hermione waved her wand and shrunk Harry's trunk for him, picking it up and putting it in his hand. "Oh!" she exclaimed, depositing the shrunken luggage and reaching in her own pocket, holding out a dark leather money pouch. "Before I forget."

Harry took it and gave it an adverse look. "What is this?" he asked carefully, opening it up and looking in. Nestled inside lay what looked like-

"Books!" Hermione beamed.

"Books?" Harry groaned and glanced pleadingly at Ron who had found what must have been a rather interesting spot on the ceiling.

"Well, I noticed that you haven't been reading the ones I've given you and McGonagall needed those back, so I went out and bought you some more."

"Uhh…. Thanks?" Harry squeaked.

* * *

><p>"Harry! Look, Teddy, It's Harry." Andy was standing just right of the fireplace where he flooed in holding a wide eyed baby. Teddy, almost four months old, was a ball of drool and snot. He had a light dusting of hair over his bald head and bright brown eyes with a permanent expression of wonderment on his face. He giggled when he saw Harry- a new person to play with!<p>

Harry grinned and stumbled forward rubbing Teddy on the head and kissing Andy's cheek. "It's so good to see you, again!"

Andy smiled gently, reminding Harry of her rather motherly tendencies. He hoped the wince wasn't overly noticeable. "I know how hard it is, dear. But you'll have your own room and all the privacy you may want."

His grin faded and he looked around, seeing pictures smiling and waving at home from the mantle. It was like a living shrine of Tonks, Remus and Andy's husband, Ted. It hurt, terribly, to see Tonks and Remus laughing, but not able to hear their laughter and to also see Ted's easy smile and remember how grounded and determined he was to help the others who were on the run, even though he had not a hope in the world if it came down to a confrontation with Deatheaters.

Harry swallowed with difficultly passed the lump forming in his throat. He cleared it and turned to Andy who was smiling a very watery smile. "So, er, where do I sleep?"

"Here, I'll show you, Harry. You take Teddy and follow me."

Harry protested incompletely as Andy pressed the baby into his arms with a murmmed 'mind his head, dear.' He froze, staring at the not so tiny thing laying in the crook of one elbow while the other hand grasped desperately to his side, trying to keep Teddy, only months old, fully balanced and supported. Teddy shifted once and Harry nearly yelped as he felt the baby slid between his right arm and his body. Teddy settled comfortably and stared up at Harry with wide, trusting eyes.

"There you are. That's not so difficult, is it?" Andy asked. "This way now." She made her way to the back of the rather small one single floor cottage to a door painted blue. It was the only door in the narrow hall and right next to the kitchen and back door. "This was Nymphadora's room when she came back from Auror training. It used to be a den but you can come and go as you please without disrupting me and Teddy. Just let me know if you're not going to be home in the morning for breakfast." She smiled apologetically. "I'm a worried old woman."

Harry felt slightly uncomfortable with the idea of someone keeping track of him, even if it was just a common courtesy. He understood the need but he had never really had to follow the rules of a home, or even have someone worry about him like he was…. Family? Was that it? Was that the difference? If it was, Harry was damned if it was going to screw it up. He smiled and nodded "Deal." He looked down at Teddy. "Uh.."

Andy returned his smiled and held out her hands. "I'll take him, Harry. You just unpack and settle in and after lunch, I'll give you a tour! So much has changed in our little home but I had to accommodate Teddy and it was just so unsuitable before…" Her face clouded suddenly and Harry shifted, feeling awkward and not at all sure as he gently laid a hand on her shoulder after watching Teddy settle in her arms.

She shook her head and laughed, something that sounded like a concealed sob. "Oh, don't mind the antics of this old lady, dear. I'm so glad you've decided to move in, though. It'll be nice to bring some more life into this house."

Harry watched helplessly as Andy scurried away with the silent Teddy in her arms.

* * *

><p>His new bedroom was perfect. There was no other word for it. It was obviously freshly painted and decorated. The same blue that was on the door, dark enough not to reflect the lighting from the rather large window and the lamp, bordered the walls, framing a cream colour that almost shone. There was a desk against the far wall and a bookshelf built into the wall under the window frame. A simple double bed took up another wall and a wardrobe stood across from it. Harry entered the room further and turned around, surprised to find another door just beside the head of the bed. He opened it, revealing a rather small bathroom with a stand up shower, toilet and sink tucked into the space. He closed the door and walked to the wardrobe and opened the doors. He stared in shock at the small black screen staring back at him. The antennae sticking up from the box betrayed the fact that it was, indeed, a muggle television. He put his hand out, feeling a strong tingling in his flesh and realized that it was heavily warded. Looking closer at the lighting in the room confirmed his suspicions. He was standing in a home which utilized both muggle and magical means of living.<p>

Harry quickly pulled out his trunk and resized it, transferring his clothes and toiletries to the drawers beneath the wardrobe and the books Hermione thrust upon him to the bookshelf. In very little time, Harry was sitting at the desk, twirling his wand and looking out the window. The knock at the door made him look up.

"Harry? Are you hungry?" Andy asked through the door. "I made cutlets."

Harry grinned. Maybe it was a very good thing moving in with Andy…

* * *

><p>The remainder of the day was spent playing with Teddy and idly flipping through a fairly thin text entitled <em>My Vampire Lover and Me.<em> With embarrassment flowing rapidly through him, Harry forced himself to get past the horrifying title and once he did, he realized that the book wasn't the tripe he had originally taken it for, though he would be dead before admitting the fact to Hermione or even allowing Andy to catch just a glimpse of the thing.

Once Teddy had been lain down for the night, and Andy settled on the couch beside him, Harry gently closed his book and laid it (face down) on the end table. He paused awkwardly, not sure on how to proceed.

The silence lengthened and Andy seemed oblivious to it as she sipped her tea and watched through the partially open window as the sun went down.

This day had been surreal for Harry. He had settled into what could almost be a routine between the hours of lunch and dinner. After Teddy's afternoon nap, Harry fed, burped and changed the baby all under Andy's watchful eye and careful instructions. He then spent a long half hour of trying to get Teddy to laugh, earning only a short giggle from him before the fussing began and Andy brought him another bottle of warmed up milk.

"He's eating a lot, isn't he?" Harry had asked but Andy only laughed.

"A few more weeks, and we'll try him on fine wheat cereal. He might even be on solid food soon."

Harry didn't have a clue what that meant but he passed it off as being a good thing and continued holding the bottle at the desired angle for the hungry baby.

After the baby was burped, changed and dressed once more, only with a minor glitch when Teddy spit up quite a large amount, he lay on his tummy, kicking his little legs and feet, almost as if trying to jump until he settled for placing his arms on the ground and holding up his head, stretching his neck as far as it would go, then dropping it suddenly as if the weight was too much.

That afternoon, Harry lost his heart to his Godson and became irrevocably wrapped around that stubby little finger.

But no matter how amazing the first day had been, it didn't make the conversation he was going to have with Andy any easier, it just made it that much more important.

"Harry, dear?"

He looked up. "Yeah?"

"Molly Weasley owled me today asking us to dinner on Tuesday. She and Arthur are looking forward to seeing you again."

He froze. Thoughts of being in that house, one look causing Ginny to scream and lash out, claiming him to be some form of Inferius. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, not sure what to tell Andy.

"Harry. Molly doesn't blame you for any of what happened. Nothing is your fault. Can you remember that?"

The backs of his left eye stung and Harry screwed it shut tighter. He took several deep breaths in from his nose, listening to Andy's words.

"She promised that it would just be her and Arthur. George is starting to get the shop up and running. Bill is back at the bank, though he is staying in London for another month and Charlie, well, Charlie is back in Romania with Ginny."

Hope settled in his chest and he opened his eyes when he felt sure any tears would stay where they belonged; behind his lids. "And Percy?" He asked.

Andy laughed. "Percy is, oddly enough, helping George." She shook her head bemusedly. "I've only seen that boy a few times and most of those were when Nymphadora was in school. That boy working in a joke shop is the last thing I expected."

Harry smiled a little at that. That was the last thing he expected as well. If it truly was only Molly and Arthur at dinner, Harry could make it. He owed it to them, actually for not seeing them for almost a month. He nodded, "That sounds nice, actually. Thanks for asking."

"You're welcome dear." She stretched suddenly and rose. "Teddy will be up early tomorrow. I'm just glad he a sleeper. 'Dora had all the sleepless nights."

Harry looked wildly after her as she left the room, not having the chance to talk to her about his new concern. He heard a soft 'goodnight' and responded in kind before sighing in defeat and picking up his book once more.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful dedication! I cannot believe the number of Alerts and Favourites this story is getting :) ON WITH THE SHOW! _

_whitetyger: Uh... yeah- the feedings... well, when you have a vampire who is hungry for blood and there is only one source he can tap into... let's just say decorum doesn't really exist for him. :D _

_Ferchu-7775: he he- thank you! Yeah- poor Draco. He's still stuck in that rundown old house for this chapter- eating mice and drinking questionable water. But I'm sure he would appreciate your sympathy! _

_Warnings: embarrassing situations, health concerns and an introduction to Andy's iron will! _

.XV.

Day 7

June 8th

Harry was abruptly awakened by screeching in the middle of the night. He stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen without even grabbing his glasses. The sight that met his blurred eyes horrified him.

There was Andy, standing in the middle of the room with a screaming Teddy and her wand pointed at a tall and imposing figure looking ready to attack.

"Snape!" Harry yelled, hurtling forward. "Wait!"

Harry skidded to a stop right in front of Andy and Teddy, holding his hands up and out to the vampire. "Snape. It's okay. Look! I'm here and I'm safe. I didn't mean to hide from you. I wasn't hiding from you!"

Snape hissed and tilted back his head, showing gleaming teeth. Harry took a step forward.

"Harry, don't!" Andy yelled out.

Harry turned his head. "It's alright, look-ugh!" Two arms pulled Harry close and held him tightly and Harry felt a rumbling in the chest that was flush against his naked torso. His face was thrust into the indentation of Snape's cloak and arm, muffling his voice when he tried speaking again. "Ee's 'ust 'ungry. Ee'll be 'on soon." He tried to pull his head away but the vampire wouldn't let even an inch of space between their bodies and Harry could almost swear that he was growling. Possessive much?

Harry, rather than continuing to try and get away, he inched even closer to Snape and tried to push him back, steering the vampire toward his room. He felt Snape minutely relax and allow him to somewhat awkwardly lead him into the bedroom. Once they were out of sight of Andy and the door was closed, Snape relaxed fully, moving his mouth to the juncture between Harry's shoulder and neck and skirting his lips and tongue around the area. The embarrassment of the encounter prevented Harry from becoming lost in the sensation and he immediately pushed away.

"Snape," he said when he was finally released enough to speak without mumbling. "What were you thinking? You nearly gave Andy a heart attack!"

Snape ignored him, following step by step until Harry was cornered between the wall and wardrobe where he took his time replacing his mouth on the enticing throat in front of him. Harry groaned in annoyance. That blasted book was right. Once he read that, he should have apparated straight to Spinner's End, before everything got out of control. He sighed and allowed himself to be taken over, though not sent spiralling to completion like last time, by the sensations brought on by Snape's mouth.

It was over in moments and quite a bit more painfully than before. Snape's sucking slowed until his brief licks cleaned the blood away. The mouth moved away and Harry felt the damp wrist touch his lips and it was his turn to suck on an open wound, drawing the blood from inside into his own body. He finished and the wrist was pulled. The weight moved off him and Harry stood straight, uncomfortable and awkward due to the first time he was conscious directly after an encounter. His legs gave out and he stumbled and fell into clothed arms.

Snape's face loomed above his own and Harry found himself being lifted like a rag doll, unable to even lift his arms and taken into another room: his bathroom.

He heard the water run and then his body was supported in the shower as a quick, efficient hand washed the blood from his face, neck and chest. The water was turned off and he was pulled out, wrapped in a blanket and laid on the bed. A hand briefly touched his face. "Stupid child." Snape whispered before stepping out of the room. Harry struggled in the tight cocoon, perturbed at being treated like a child. Unfortunately, his limbs still contained that strange rubbery feel and he was not strong enough to even call out for help.

* * *

><p>Severus was cautious exiting Potter's room, and therefore, was prepared when a well aimed hex nearly took his head off. He moved swiftly toward to woman holding the wand and effortlessly removed it from her grasp. He stepped back.<p>

"Madam, I am not here to harm you, the baby or the boy." The woman's face, familiar only in the resemblance of her sister, Bellatrix, closed off in confusion.

"What do you want, vampire?" she ground out. "Leave here!"

Severus crept closer. "Potter is a fool. I have provided for him a potion to take every day and he has not had it once. I cannot continue to feed from him without it affecting his life. Do you know where it is?"

Andromeda Tonks gripped a knife sitting in a wooden block on the counter and pulled it free, swinging it to point at Severus. "Did you kill Harry? Did you?" Her voice was a high pitch, the volume causing Severus to wince back. The dim light filtering in from the hallways coupled with her shrill voice was starting to give him a headache.

"I did not, you infernal woman! He is my donor." The knife point dipped slightly though Severus did not remove his gaze from either her hand or the gleaming tip.

"Your donor?" she asked, suspiciously, but Severus was glad to see the tip lower even more. Andromeda Tonks nee Black was the elder of the Black sisters and though she married a muggle, she had been raised with the same standards as the other purebloods of her time. That meant, essentially, that she knew a certain... prestige attached itself to a witch or wizard who became a blood donor to a vampire. It was, in layman's terms, a position highly sought after as it ensured the protection of a powerful creature as well as a few of the more, though muted, intriguing traits of a vampire without losing one's human status.

She also realized, Severus' hoped, that the donor, though in a position to be bitten and fed from almost daily, was in minimal danger. The knife was fully lowered and set gently on the counter. She sagged.

"Oh poor Harry. How does he wander into these situations?" She asked, though obviously not expecting an answer and Severus wasn't inclined to give one.

"The potion?" Severus asked again.

She shook her head. "It must be in his room. He just moved in yesterday and didn't place any potions in the medical cabinet."

"Damn." Severus cursed under his breath. He looked around the kitchen. "I need your assistance, Madam Tonks. Something soft and mild on the stomach then I will require you to _accio_ the potion. I do not have a wand, nor the magical ability to wield one any longer."

She nodded her head. "Of course…" She tilted her head quizzically.

Severus stared back though she still did not move. He raised an eyebrow.

"Your name?"

Severus felt his eyes widen, astounded that she caught him off his guard. "Severus Snape." He blurted, all at once pleased for his undead status which prevented him from blushing.

The woman nodded her head. "You taught my Dora potions." She seemed satisfied in knowledge and went about gathering a day old bun with a cup of iced tea kept in the fridge. She then handed the food and drink to Severus, easily pulling her wand from his pocket and led the way into Potter's bedroom. She stopped short at seeing the naked figure struggling on the bed.

"It seems, Severus, that we may have to discuss the rules of this house. Vampire or no, I will not allow you to take advantage of this boy." She spoke softly before hurrying forward to sooth Potter and gave her wand a single wave, catching the vial that flew to her from the wardrobe.

Severus, his alien and abstract emotions that were now fully tied to the boy who had lost, and consumed, too much blood in the last week, wanted to scoff at the weak threat. Who was _she_ to stop _him_? However, the knowledge that Andromeda was raised by Cygnus Black, a man who, though never following the idealism of the Dark Lord, was just as well versed in the Dark Arts. He would image, having only daughters, that he would have taught them plenty even before Andromeda was able to make her escape. He had no doubt that she could do much worse than kill a vampire if she so desired.

Severus watched as she freed Potter and gave him the required dose, making sure he ate the bread and drank the tea. The boy wasn't oblivious to Severus' presence, however. His eyes darted over to the vampire every so often, blushing a red that was noticeable to his eyes in the gloomy darkness. He had no doubt that Potter could see just as well for the time being. When the boy had finished eating, Andromeda stood and left, giving Severus a glance filled with warning. Severus, seemingly ignorant of it, strode forward and looked down at the boy who was recovering rapidly.

"Idiot." He said softly. "I had sent Draco to you specifically for you to begin your dosage. Instead you feed him and forget about your own health."

Potter glanced up and shrugged. "No harm done, right?" he said stupidly. "I was just tired. You couldn't kill me. I know. Even if you were dying yourself, you wouldn't risk killing me just to eat."

Severus couldn't stop the sneer. "And how would you know?"

"I read it." Potter spoke calmly, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world. "See?" he asked, pointing to a thin book sitting on the bedside table. Severus picked out the title, even from the distance across the room and the awkward angle.

"_My Vampire Lover and Me_?" Severus asked incredulously. "Do I have to tell you, Potter, that I am not your lover?"

He shook his head. "Not really, no. But I know what usually happens between vampires and their donors and I know what's happened between us already, or do you want to see a pensive?" the last was asked sarcastically and Severus couldn't stop the sneer from forming on his lips, but he was able to stop the biting remark from spilling forth. Potter continued. "Chances are, you won't let me have a lover you don't trust explicitly and knowing you, not one person exists who has your trust."

Severus was going to offer one such example when the sudden thought of said pair actually coupling didn't seem nearly as impossible as he had wished, he stayed quiet. No need to plant such thoughts where they may bear fruit. Instead he said: "Sleep, Potter. I will not go so long without for the lives and safety of others, but you _will_ tell them about our situation. Do not make me come find you again."

Severus turned and left, using the more coveted, though impossible without the actual gene, traits of the undead to swiftly make his way back home.

* * *

><p>Following Snape's advice, Harry slept and didn't awake again until early afternoon. The sun streaming from the window felt abnormally hot against his skin and drilled into his eyes with its brightness. He conjured a pair of plastic flimsy shades with the thought that he needed to buy something more sturdy and dressed. A few minutes later had seen Harry dressed, washed and searching out Andy. He found her in the living room, magicking a swing for Teddy. She looked up.<p>

"I thought I was going to have to send a search party for you. Good morning."

Her tone was friendly and warm but her face was shuttered closed and Harry felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I should have told you before."

"Yes, you should have," she said. "But, even with the excitement this morning, there is no harm done." She waved her wand a few last times, watching as the dimensions of a bucket swing changes. Finally she sat back with a satisfied look in her eyes. "There! All for you Teddy!" she picked up the baby lying on the floor and placed him in the swing, and waved the wand once. The swing started rocking and Teddy, wide eyed in amazement, moved to look around uninhibited.

Andy stood and dusted her hands. She looked at Harry. "Care to tell me what happened?"

Harry sighed and chewed on his lip for a moment before nodding. Explaining the entire story would take much too long so he stuck with barebones and included what he hoped was the most important bits. He was afraid that Andy would see him as a freak and ask him to leave. That he wouldn't be welcome anymore, anywhere.

When he was finished, he bowed his head and awaited his sentencing. What he didn't expect was a pair of strong arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders and pulling him close. "My precious dear." She whispered. "You try so hard to find a place and no where accepts you. But you're accepted here, Harry. Forever." She pulled away and Harry quickly whipped his cheeks. "And where better, hmm?" She pointed at Teddy. "I have an orphaned grandson who turns into a wolf every full moon, a husband who lives as a ghost in my attic -yes dear, but he won't come down or talk to anyone, or let anyone but me see him- and I have been disinherited nearly thirty years ago, and restated as a Black only yesterday when I allowed the Lord Black to move in with me. What is having the Boy-Who-Lived, defeater of the Dark Lord and a vampire donor compared to all that?"

Harry gapped at her. "Mr Tonks lives in the attic?"

"And that's all you care about?" Andy asked, laughing.

Harry grinned back and made his way to the kitchen for food with a command following him. "Do not forget to take your potion!"


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: So... I have been editing this godforsaken chapter for the better part of the day and I __think__ it's up to standard. Here you are, darlings. I hope you enjoy it. _

_Big warm, everlasting thank yous to whitetyger123(Soon, I promise. Soon...) and brightsun 89 (I'm glad you like!) for your reviews. Also big thank yous for all you who have favourite and alerted this story- it only encourages me more! _

_Warnings: The wallow for the self-pity about to come may just drown more than one of you- it is that deep! Also- friendly and not so friendly owls and a little bit of rolling around in the dirt! _

.XVI.

Day 8

June 9th

Harry brushed his hair down with a wet comb and watched with annoyance as it slowly bounced back up to stick straight up in the back and a little along the sides, like a tail and two wings. He sighed and collected as much as he could into a fist. Not quite long enough to tie back, but he would, he promised himself. He would.

He exited his room and searched out Andy and Teddy. He found them in the nursery, where it looked as if a bomb went off.

"Harry!" Andy called out in relief. "Help me dress Teddy. He needs a change first and if only I could find… Ahha!" She held up a top that looked like a miniature old man's sweater vest, complete with itchy wool. Teddy, silent before seeing that monstrosity, gave out a cry and clung to Harry's hand.

"Oh settle down, Teddy. It's not that bad!" She took the newly cleaned Teddy and tried to put the vest on him. He screamed even more.

"Uh, Andy? Do you mind?" Harry asked gently.

Andy looked at him and nodded gladly. "Be my guest." She said and gave Teddy and the vest to Harry.

Harry cuddled Teddy close and looked at the vest before quickly casting it over his shoulder where it promptly vanished.

"Harry!" Andy cried. "That was his good vest!"

"And good riddance! It was bloody ugly. Even Teddy knew that and he's still on liquids!" Harry laughed as Teddy giggled and passively allowed Harry to dress him in a green sleeper with a yellow giraffe running up his side.

"Everyone's a critic," Andy said mysteriously with a slight grimace. "Alright, let's go before we are even _more_ late!"

* * *

><p>The Burrow looked the same as it always did. Six stories (seven if one counted the tiny attic above what used to be the twins' bedroom) all haphazardly stacked one on top of the other. There were a few sparrows flying around their perches in the many peaks but other than that, the place was silent.<p>

Harry followed Andy up to the back door leading to the kitchen and waited nervously as Andy knocked once and bounced Teddy slightly, making him giggle and grasp tightly to the snuggy holding him securely to Andy's front. The door flew open.

"You're here!" Molly Weasley cried out taking one of Andy's hands and gripping it tight. She looked over the older woman's shoulder and smiled. "Harry dear, it's so good to see you!" Harry watched, keenly aware that he had not seen her since Fred's funeral and was wary of any sign of distress that he may cause- all things considered (specifically, Ginny).

"Hi Mrs. Weasley." That earned him a glare like it usually did and he smiled weakly. "Molly." He and Andy were ushered inside and once the door was closed and locked behind them, Molly came and pulled Harry into a tight hug.

"Don't ever forget that whatever happens, you will always have a home here, Harry. No matter what." Molly gave him another squeeze and released him, holding him for a moment at arm's length. She sighed and plastered on a determined smile. "Let's eat! Arthur! They're here!" She called as she propelled Harry and Andy forward.

Just a few short minutes later, Harry found himself sitting at a magically retracted table which comfortably fit four people and one highchair in the now seemingly large and spacious kitchen. Harry was happily piling his plate high with Molly's cooking as Molly and Arthur bickered about nonsensical things and Andy hid an amused smile behind her glass. The conversation was kept light and airy, but there was genuine warmth down at the bottom that comforted the heart more than the hot chocolate that was served with the roast and potatoes warmed the body.

This, Harry thought with a slight pang loss because Hermione and Ron weren't there to enjoy this as well, is what family does. They stick together, no matter what happens. The wave of sorrow which usually comes upon him during these thoughts was lighter and not as overwhelmingly heavy a burden to bear. For Harry, the sorrow steamed from the loss of too many good friends through death and other means. If the war never happened, if he had never had to face his sexual preferences, if Ginny were- he sighed and stabbed a sliver of beef more viciously than necessary. For a long time, she was the one and now she was insane.

"Harry, could you please tell Molly why _light bubs_ are so important. You need to have lots on hand just in case, right Harry? Just in case."

Harry, jolted back from his maudlin recollections, grinned. This was what family was for.

* * *

><p>Dinner was finished and dessert was ready to be served when the first owl came. It landed directly in front of Harry and hooted forlornly. He reached for it and opened it carefully.<p>

"Oh, no. I'm sorry dear, I didn't think-" Molly said as she shooed the owl away.

"It's alright Molly, Just a sympathy note. See? 'You poor boy, having to take on such hardships during such a terrible time. I really feel for you. Please, this is an open invitation to come by anytime- anytime at all- for a cuppa and a …'" Harry blushed and cleared his throat. "Well, it goes on like that for a while." He set the note down beside him just as another three owls flew in threw the open window.

They dropped their letters and flew away again, leaving their missives behind.

"Oh no." Andy whispered and Harry blanched. The bright red one in the middle of the pile started to smoke.

The explosion time was less- a lot less- than that of a normal howler. And the explosion was deafening

Soon the table was engulfed in smoke and fire which Arthur and Molly struggled to get cleared while Andy snatched up a screaming Teddy and took him outside to safety. Harry stared, stunned as the a hysterical voice filled the kitchen.

_TRAITOR! YOU SHOULD'VE DIED. YOU DON'T DESERVE T' LIVE AFTER EVERYTHING THAT YOU'VE 'VE DESTROYED MY FAMILY, AND KILLED THE ONLY HOPE THE WIZARDING WORLD HAD LEFT. YOU'LL PAY FOR EVER THINKIN' YOU COULD SURVIVE AN' PLAY THE HERO. THE BOY WHO LIVED IS ABOUT T' DIE I PROMISE YOU THAT. I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. THOSE MONTHS WHERE EVERYONE THOUGHT YOU WERE… HUNTING? I KNOW. I KNOW WHO THE REAL MONSTER IS. WHEN YOU BLEED WE'LL SEE HOW MUCH OF THAT MUDBLOOD MOTHER OF YOURS ACTUALLY FLOWS THROUGH YOUR TWISTED LITTLE VEINS. I WILL GET YOU WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT, SO CALLED CHOSEN ONE! _

Like a vacuum, the smoke and fire was sucked away and imploded with a loud _pop_. Harry stared at the letter which consumed the others in the fire. He backed away and stumbled outside, picking up speed and running passed Andy where she rocked the now quiet Teddy, having heard everything.

Harry ran.

He tripped over grass and ruts in the ground as his legs pumped their way across the field. He fell to his knees more than once and managed to get up each time to continue his reckless headlong escape into the woods on the other side of the field.

It was pure luck that prevented him from falling headfirst as he came to a stumbling halt on the edge of the river that led into a nearby lake. The steep embankment crumbled slightly under his feet and he sat down heavily, the howler echoing in his ears.

The voice...that voice. He didn't recognize it though he could match it to a thousand different faces. So many people, so many dead and everything he had done attributed to those deaths. He should have…

Harry bowed his head and rubbed harshly against his eyes until he was blinded by sharp flecks of light and his head started to pound.

A twig snapped from a few metres away, startling him. Before he knew, he reacted, raised on one knee and wand pointed towards the sound.

A fox, burnished gold and tan froze, staring at Harry before bolting into the bush. Harry laughed, the sound shocking him into silence for a millisecond until he gave in, laughing at the absurdity of it all, at how much a joke his life has become. He's a seventeen year old boy, nearly eighteen, and already he was a war hero, a saviour, a murderer, and a blood donor for a vampire. His only girlfriend is a crazed mess and now he's started lusting after a dead man who also happened to be _the_ worse professor he had ever had. Okay, not counting Umbridge… and Lockheart… and maybe Crouch Jr but that was only because he tried to kill Harry in the end, other than that, Crouch Jr was a fairly decent teacher.

Harry's laughing cusped on the edge of insanity for only a moment before it was torn away and replaced with anguish sobs. Of all his teachers, his favourite was, of course, Remus, but now Remus was dead, and Nymphadora was dead, and Fred was dead, and Colin was dead, and Sirius was dead and Snape was still alive but now he's a blood sucking fiend and doesn't want to be undead but that was just another thing that Harry could be blamed for. If he had died a nameless deatheater, his body would have been burned and a tiny plaque would have been placed on a wall in the Department of Mysteries to keep track of dead wizards. He wouldn't have been buried in unholy ground if people believed him to be a traitor but no, Harry couldn't let that happen. He had to give Kingsley those memories and then Kingsley had to, in a moment of sentimentality, decide to bury Snape outside his childhood home, the home where he was abused and yelled at and disgraced for being a wizard and … and … and it's all Harry's fault!

The sky slowly darkened and the horizon turned a bright rosy pink. Now Harry couldn't even go back and finish school with his friends because he had to stay where Snape had easy access to his blood and it was his fault, _again_, for tethering himself to Snape when neither of them wanted that connection just because he _had_ to break house arrest and just _had_ to pay his respects for a man he had never, not once while he was alive, respected for any reason whatsoever! Now Ron and Hermione will go to Hogwarts with Neville and Parvati and Dean and Seamus and Lavender and Denis, but of course _not_ Colin because Harry thought he could teach a bunch of little children how to property protect themselves against fully trained and vindictive killers! McGonagall apparently is inviting everyone back, even the Slytherins who weren't cast into Azkaban but Harry is prevented from going because of his own stupid and selfish mistakes and he's going to miss out on all the fun and excitement and education and be stuck at home with a baby (who admittedly stole Harry's heart with no effort at all!) and a grieving witch who lost not only her daughter but also her husband who was killed all because of Harry-

He shook his head. He loved Andy and he was grateful to have her though he wished everything wouldn't be so difficult- he can't even go out for dinner at the Weasley's house without having a storm of owls come down on him.

There was a hooting in the distance and Harry screwed his eyes up tight. Not again, he thought. He opened them and turned on his back, ignoring the sound of another twig breaking, expecting a howler to start berating him even more. Life sucks.

"Harry Potter, on his back and displayed for me. Oh my, I think I'm in the middle of a wet dream." A voice came from just a few feet away and Harry bolted upright, trying to grasp his wand which fell by his side and came up with a rather thick twig that had a leaf still attached. His weapon was pointed with what would have been deadly accuracy at Malfoy.

Malfoy held up his hands and gasped in mock astonishment. "A twig! Oh my, have mercy Potter. Please have mercy on me!"

With all the refinement and sensibility Harry possessed, he demanded, "You're going back to Hogwarts to have fun, aren't you!" Malfoy blinked, taken aback but Harry didn't let that distract him. "Aren't. You?"he hissed between clenched teeth.

The lone leaf on the stick burst into flame and Malfoy stumbled back. "Whoa! Potter, relax. No I'm not going back to _Hogwarts_, are you insane?"

"Maybe I am." Harry grunted and threw the stick back on the ground and stood up, looking around for his wand. "How did you find me?"

He looked up again in time to see Malfoy's fist swinging at him but Harry just stared and watched as it got closer, finally connecting to the right side of his jaw. The pain blossomed from his face and shot straight down his legs and he collapsed in a boneless pile.

* * *

><p>When he came to, he was lying on something softer than the ground. He opened his eyes to see Malfoy pacing back and forth and ranting viciously.<p>

"…of all the stupid…"

"…Severus would have drank…"

"…son of a bitch, Potter…"

Harry smacked his lips to get his mouth moving. His jaw ached as he spoke. "You're a right arsehole aren't you?"

"And you're an idiot." Malfoy shot back at him without missing a beat in his pacing.

"You came all this way to tell me that?"

"It's not nearly as far away as I would go to tell you that, Potter. Though it did take me the better part of the day to find you since Severus wouldn't give me any clues _at all_. Seems he knew what I would do." Malfoy took two more turns around the living room before coming to a stop in front of Harry. "You are a bastard!"

"Right, now that we have all that settled, where's everyone?" Harry rolled his eyes at Malfoy's tantrum and sat up, rubbing at his jaw to find it slathered in some kind of paste.

"In the kitchen. After I brought you back here, with your wand since some asshole stole mine and didn't bother returning it, and convinced them all that I wasn't here to kill you, they got tired of listening to me, and I quote 'moan and bone' about my lot in life, they went into the kitchen." Malfoy walked up to Harry sitting on the couch and stared at him hard. He swung his leg and connected solidly with Harry's shin. Harry yelped and Malfoy nodded once in satisfaction. "If Severus is going to beat the bollocks off me, I might as well take advantage. Come on."

Harry whined in his throat as he rubbed his shin before standing and hobbling after Malfoy into the kitchen. The sight that greeted him was seemingly normal except for the tall blond presence of a Malfoy in the middle of a Weasley kitchen.

"Harry dear. Are you alright, love?" Molly asked from her spot at the table.

Harry smiled slightly. "I think my jaw's broken."

"If it was you wouldn't be able to talk." Malfoy retorted, sitting down at Harry's spot. Molly waved her wand and a full plate of food they ate for dinner floated over and landed in front of Malfoy. "Thank you Mrs Weasley."

"Ehm."

"Molly." Malfoy looked down at his plate though it didn't hide the pink blush that rose up his face.

Harry gaped at them but Molly only patted his hand and said, "Not a worry, Draco dear." She looked up. "Harry, take a seat." Another chair popped up right beside Malfoy and Harry gingerly sat down on the edge of it.

"Uh, what's going on?" he asked.

Andy, sitting across from Harry, smiled and bounced Teddy on her knee. "Draco came by just after you ran off. He said something about Severus Snape sending him but seeing the flock of owls close in on the house, took some time to help us hold them off." Andy paused and tickled Teddy. "Did you know he was an owl animagus? Truly remarkable for one so young and without a wand!"

Harry turned to stare at Malfoy and was rewarded when the other boy's pink cheeks turned brighter. At least he was embarrassed and uncomfortable which was evident in the way he's gone unnaturally still. "Yeah, I knew."

"Well, yes. Once we got rid of the owls and put the wards up-"

"I'm sorry, Harry. We didn't even think of that." Molly inputted.

"-Draco volunteered to help search for you. He promised to bring you back to the house in one piece all for the prince of dinner." Andy finished with a flair.

"Naturally, though," Arthur stated. "We were concerned when you were brought back in one piece but unconscious."

Malfoy muttered something into his food and Molly asked, "What was that dear?"

He looked up. "I said this food is delicious. Better than Granger's cooking."

"Oh well, I'm sure with practice, Hermione will be just fine."

Malfoy smiled a little sickly and bent his head down again. Harry glared suspiciously at his blond head for he swore the mumbled covered something like "Blood prat."

There was a long moment of silence where the only sounds came from Malfoy softly eating his dinner. Harry felt just a small pang of sympathy for the boy. He had no money and no experience looking after himself. With only a vampire to go to for help, it was no wonder he was starving. Snape probably didn't even care where Malfoy got his food from.

Apparently, Andy came to the same conclusion. "Where are you living, Draco?"

He looked up. "Spinner's End." He replied after carefully swallowing his food. "Severus's place."

She tisked. "And my sister?" he stared at her blankly. "Narcissa?" Andy prodded.

Malfoy's eyes went wide for a moment before swinging over to stare at Harry in amazement. 'My aunt?' he mouthed. Harry only smirked just a little surprised that Malfoy didn't know, considering Andy'd close resemblance to Bellatrix. Malfoy faced Andy again. "Uh, she's staying with cousin Carina in France. They didn't have anything to do with the Dark Lord and so she thought it would be safe enough."

"Why didn't you go with her?" Harry asked, breaking into the conversation.

Malfoy looked back to his plate and started as if amazed that all his food was gone. "I… I couldn't go and claim Spinner's end at the same time and I, uh, didn't want to just run away. Pansy and Blaise have already left, and Theo is under a harsher house arrest than you were." Malfoy looked down. "Greg is in Azkaban."

Harry winced but said nothing. Andy took it up, once again. "Well, Draco. Since you are still here in England and have very little to connect you to the outside world, and no, the vampire doesn't count, you are to come to dinner every night and any other time you want. That is an open invitation and I insist you accept it. I can open the floo to you and Severus, allowing for easier travel as well."

At the mention of ''vampire' Harry had whipped around to stare between Molly and Arthur in terror but Molly only sighed and shook her head and Arthur chuckled.

"Andy told us everything, Harry. She warned us before we even invited you for dinner just in case we had a surprise visit from you-know-who." Arthur smile widened as his words became clear to everyone and Harry groaned.

"Snape is going to be the death of me, isn't he?"

* * *

><p>After dessert, and second helpings for all round (and thirds for Malfoy, Molly's new charity case- Harry thought with some glee), all four visitors waited by the back entrance to say goodbye.<p>

"It was nice to see you again, Harry." Molly said as she gave him a tight squeeze. "Don't be a stranger, love."

"Andromeda, lovely to see you, as always." Arthur was saying, shaking her hand and patting a sleeping Teddy on the head.

The highlight of the night was when Malfoy tried to sneak away without a word and Molly stopped him in his tracks. He froze like the fox had only a few hours before, giving Molly time enough to pull him into a hug. "Draco, you are a fine young man and you're also welcome back anytime, dear. Anytime."

"Thanks Mrs Weasley." Malfoy whispered before snaking out of her grasp and out the back door, vanishing into the night. Harry heard the telltale sound of wings in the darkness. He turned back to shake Arthur's hand and followed Andy outside and past the apparition point. They both vanished with a _pop._

_A/N: So, a question. I have come up with a number of workable endings for this fic. Should it be light and fluffy where everyone is happy? Or depressing and tragic where everyone- or mostly everyone dies... like a tragedy? Think about it, and if you are so inclined, let me know._

_Until next time! _


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: It seems that the general consensus is to keep this fic relatively light. Perhaps I should change the genre...? :P_

_Anyway, the explanation will be at the end of the chapter so feel free to ignore it if you wish._

_Big, heartfelt thank yous to Tamikolee, whitetyger 123, brightsun89, AcadianProud, and The Walrus I Am for responding. I shall keep all your requests and opinions in mind :) _

_Warnings: Short chapter ahead and 'alone time' for Harry along with a slight display of exhibitionism ;) - no dialogue... sorry. _

.XVII.

Day 12

June 13th

The past few days have decided a kind of routine for Harry. He would wake up late in the morning, just in time to have a light breakfast and play with Teddy for a couple of hours until lunch was made. On the odd day, Andy would go to the market, leaving Harry and Teddy home alone so she could go out and shop in peace as neither Harry nor Teddy gave her any when there was shopping to be done.

After lunch on the days she stays home, Teddy would go down for a nap and Harry would venture outside to explore the country side. The large properties and free space was something he was only used to seeing at Hogwarts. But in the tiny village where Andy lived, there was free space for miles around and Harry took full advantage of the peace and quiet.

When dinner rolled around, Malfoy showed up like a cat, always just in time. Those meals, first awkward and filled with uncomfortable small talk, gradually relaxed and filled with stories about Narcissa and Andy when they were little girls and before Bellatrix left her dolls for the addictive pleasure of the dark arts. Malfoy usually left the moment the kitchen was cleaned, surprisingly enough, helping to take the dishes to the sink and drying them with a fluffy towel. He had yet to touch, let alone hold, his young cousin.

The nights that followed those routine days was when changes occured. Harry made sure that his window was open the moment the sun set and he was usually holed up in his bedroom with silencing charms and locks in place. Snape was waiting in his bedroom when he got home on Tuesday night from dinner at the Weasley's and he also came on Thursday and Friday. Now, at nine pm, the sun down for about an hour, with no sign of him, Harry let out a sigh of relief for the brief reprieve. Two nights in a row following two more in the same week was starting to wear on him. At least Andy now supervised him taking the potion each day, allowing Harry to feel less sluggish.

It was horrible, though-the waiting. When Snape came to feed, Harry was torn between disgust and desire so intertwined and mixed that he didn't know which was stronger. Though the feedings were short and mostly physically satisfying, he never wanted them to end and he never wanted them to begin.

The worse thing of all those feelings and confusions was after the feeding; when Harry _dreamed._ They started the first night he moved. It was the first time he had stayed awake after an encounter and when Snape watched as Andy gave him the potion. That night, that awful and horrible night was the first night he dreamed of Snape. It was vivid and messy and completely dominating and completely controlling and absolutely the most vivid wet dream Harry had ever had.

He was soon-to-be eighteen and he was still getting off to images in his head like a common twelve year old. Pathetic. The worst thing, however, the absolute worst was in every single dream there was a pesky little fact that it was not only Snape who dominated over him, but Malfoy, so deeply involved that Harry had a hard time even looking at him without being thrown back into the start the dreams usually forced him into.

First, it was little things. Dark hair glinting in the moonlight turned the hair from black to white. That sneer on Snape's face just before he leaned in to touch Harry's neck with a single tooth became a smirk. Dark eyes would flicker from darker than night to lighter than the sun. Bodies rippled and expanded, shrunk and compressed as if fighting for a single identity.

Harry knew, just as anyone would know in a dream, that the person over him, the _man_ playing with his body and drinking his blood was Snape- without a doubt. It was, however, the characteristics of the man- of _Snape_ that changed into Malfoy. The _man _stopped being so unquestioningly identifiable as the dreams progressed and Harry was _tortured_ by it. It never ceased to make him wake, gasping for air and body shaking as his rode the after effects of an incredibly powerful orgasm that he had yet to experience when conscious.

Harry sighed and cast a barrier over the window which prevented insects from coming in but allowed the cool breeze to enter the stifling room. He stripped off all his clothes and climbed under the sheets. Normally, he would wear a pair of boxers or even sweatpants just in case Snape decided to stop by, but that evening at dinner had left him half hard and any fabric was incredibly uncomfortable. Besides, he had other plans that didn't include a safe sleep.

Harry waved his wand and called _nox_ before setting it on the bedside table and worming to the center of the bed. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, bring to his mind the most recent set of remembered images.

Lightly, Harry ran a hand down his chest over the thin sheet, biting his lip as the cotton fabric pulled nicely over his sensitive skin. He ran it further down his stomach to the tops of his hips, tracing the bone that jutted up slightly. Harry sighed, sliding the wandering hand across one hip to the other, just barely touching the edge of his pubic bone, but disturbing the hair that was found there.

Harry took a deep breath, peaked at the open window and, finding courage, slipping the hand lower, jumping a little as his fingers traced the solid outline of his cock. His blood flowed faster and pooled, causing him to groan and grip himself through the sheet while his head lolled and his eyes closed once more.

The displaced contact through the sheet allowed his imagination to flow. He moved jerkingly to the tip and pressed the cotton harshly down, gasping in delight at the sensation and from the slight pain caused by the rough friction. Harry moved faster, hips lifting in a need for something, a weight to be above him but finding nothing but the thin fabric and his hand. He increased pressure and pace, moving swiftly with eyes tightly screwed shut, seeing, not blackness but a pale face looming over him, moving an equally pale hand to match the pace of his jerking hips. Harry bit his lip, picturing a pair of perfect lips covering his own and sharp unforgiving teeth nipping at his plump and juicy mouth. He arched his neck and that mouth descended, sucking and nipping, though not quite breaking the skin. A rough twist at the bass of his cock, corkscrewing up the length and the fabric pulled down tightly over the tip-

Harry let out a deep, vibrating moan as his world flew apart and slowly knit itself back together.

Minutes passed until Harry became aware of his own, harsh breathing. He heart beat slowed and he opened his eyes, half expecting to see that pale face hovering above his own with a self pleasing smirk. Only the darkness of the room greeted his eyes and Harry released a disappointed huff. He snatched the wand from the bedside table and quickly spelled away the mess, rolled over and let sleep claim him.

There was a thought that, half niggling in the back of his mind, persisted. He could still picture the pale face with equally pale blond hair, longer than usual framing the points of cheeks and chin and nose and full lips that twist into a smirk superimposed upon dark, stringy hair, thick eyebrows and a large hooked nose set over thin, sneering lips.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: There is a rather definite timeline to this story. I wasn't sure whether to end it in Sept/Oct or in Dec which would have determined the ultimate state. As of now, I have posted 67 pages out of 147 of the prewritten draft (approx. 68k). It is not finished. I am thinking this story will be 80k or more by the time it is finished, which means that a lot will happen with the characters and while the tone itself will not change (as I really cannot write long angsty pieces without wanting to commit suicide!) I'm pretty sure the tragic ending would become plausible (not _everyone_ would die. Just enough to make sense). But, like I said, it could only happen were I to end this fic in Dec (story time) rather than Sept/Oct timeframe. The turning point will happen in August, and if I feel ambitious enough, I might just write an alternative ending to test myself. But fear not! It is decided- light and fluffy it is!

See you next weekend- unless I get a break in my busy schedule.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Wow, I'm beat! Well, here is the next chapter. It's a long one (ten pages!) so buckle up and enjoy the ride!

Thank yous to whitetyger123 and Tamikolee for your reviews. I'm glad to serve! Also a big thank you for everyone reading this silly little tale... about a vampire getting tail- Ohhh ouch- that was bad! Anyway... thanks for reading! See you next weekend unless there is a loll in my schedule!

Warnings: Necking and other impossible situations. Some cutesy stuff with baby Teddy. This and that... just tread carefully.

.XVIII.

Day 18

June 19th

Teddy Lupin gurgled happily as Andy fed him a mashed up banana. He drooled and dribbled as Andy tried to put the little bit of food into his mouth.

Harry watched in morbid fascination and just a little bit of revulsion as Teddy chomped and chomped with no concept of how to swallow. Teddy was three months old today: an extremely happy, and very hungry, baby. He loved attention and hated to go down for naps during the day and Harry liked nothing more than to sit on the floor with Teddy in his lap or playing games, holding his hands and tickling his feet and chubby legs. Harry had never been around kids before, no one that was younger than anyone at Hogwarts anyway, and he had never held a baby before Teddy. Teddy was so small, so fragile and adorable. Half the time, Harry was worried about hurting Teddy and the other half, he was amazed that such a small little thing could have such a big personality and a happy attitude. It was, to put it lightly, simply amazing.

Andy finally gave up feeding Teddy the banana and cleaned him up. She lifted him out of his highchair and handed him to Harry, leaving then returning to press a warm bottle of milk into his hands. Harry smiled and cuddled Teddy to him, propping the baby in the crook of his arm and lifting the bottle up and watched as Teddy suckled happily.

"Andy? When's Teddy going to be old enough to walk and not be so boring?" Harry asked as he lifted the baby to burp him.

"You need to be patient, Harry. Soon, he'll be running around getting into everything and you will be missing this stage when he sleeps for most of the day." Andy's voice filtered in from the kitchen where she was working on some project or other. Harry heard the distant sound of a door opening and closing followed by a muffled greeting. "Oh hello, dear. Harry, you have a letter."

Harry shouldered Teddy and entered the kitchen, smiling at Andy and the bundles of dried herbs spread out over the table. She held a thick bundle of paper stuffed into an envelope. It had a stamp and a muggle post mark on the cover. It was addressed to Harry and with a grin, he flipped it over to see a familiar untidy scrawl:

_Ron Weasley_

_P.O BOX 7-7586_

_Melbourn VIC 3200_

Harry took up the envelope and Teddy and practically flew into the living room, falling to his knees and taking the barest second to put Teddy on the blanket spread out on the floor before tearing into the paper and letting two letters and a handful of pictures fall out. He scooped up the pictures and flipped through them. They were polaroid and still, not showing the exuberance Ron and Hermione were obviously feeling at the time. The last picture was of the four, Ron and Hermione framed by Hermione's parents stood in front of a beautiful wide expanse of open blue water.

Harry stamped down hard on the sharp spike of jealously that threatened to rise up at the sight of their happy faces. They were happy, they were good and that's all that really mattered, wasn't it? He looked at the folded letters and without opening them, shoved everything back into the envelope and took it quietly into his room. When he returned to the living room it was to Teddy sleeping peacefully on the floor. He placed a blanket over the baby and went to find Andy.

She looked up when he entered the kitchen. "Is everything going well in Australia with your friends?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "Seems like it." He sat down on a chair next to Andy. "Can I help?"

"Sure. Do you remember how to chop?" Harry nodded hesitantly and took up a knife. "Good, don't worry about being quite so meticulous." She watched him for a moment. "Only chop the fully dried leaves. Leave the ones that still have moisture."

Harry nodded and set to sorting and chopping. Strangely (or perhaps not), the systematic preparation of cooking herbs was a lot more relaxing than preparing potions under the watchful gaze of Snape. He chopped and diced and plucked and jarred and Harry was surprised at how much of a good time he was actually having.

After only an hour and Harry and Andy cleared most of the table, a crash of thunder ripped through the sky. Not one minute later, rain came coursing down and Teddy started to cry in the living room. Harry grimaced guiltily at Andy for leaving the baby on the floor but she only sighed.

"I'll go set up a bed down here. It might help to be comfortable and still close to us, though if this keeps up, it may just keep us all awake tonight."

"Alright." Harry said, reaching for a bundle of thyme. He had just finished chopping and dumping all the clippings into a small jar and was in the process of reaching for the basil when-

"You can't seriously be considering brewing a potion, can you Potter?" Harry groaned and didn't bother looking up as Malfoy entered the kitchen from the living room and pulled up Andy's chair.

"Do you just come here to eat and insult me?" Harry set to tearing the dried leaves off the sprigs and piling them up before applying the knife.

"Better than sitting around a moulding old house with a vampire sleeping in the basement." Malfoy retorted. He hefted Andy's knife and Harry froze, staring at him as he started to chop the herbs into tiny pieces. Malfoy noticed the staring, of course and he rolled his eyes. "I'm better at this than you, anyway. I see no need for Aunt Andromeda to have to suffer due to poorly chopped ingredients."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, whatever Malfoy."

By the time Andy came back from settling Teddy down for his nap, they were finished chopping, stringing up the remaining herbs still in need of drying and putting the jars into the cupboards.

"Good work, boys. Now roll up your sleeves because you are going to make bread." Harry shared a single, panicked look with Malfoy. This was just the beginning of a rainy day with Andromeda Tonks.

* * *

><p>"Come on, Draco, put your back into it."<p>

"I am, you- nice lovely auntie." Malfoy quailed under Andy's glare and Harry snickered, kneading his round of dough with gusto. Harry loved making bread! Granted, it was still in the raw phase and apparently, they had to let it rise under a light warming charm for three hours but the physical labour and the feel of the smooth dough between his hands and the counter was just-

"Ugh- this hurts!" Malfoy complained, shaking his hands out and flexing his wrists. "And people do this for a _living_?" he asked his aunt.

Andy just sighed. "I'll never forgive Narcissa for raising an exact replica of herself." Malfoy opened his mouth, probably to retort, but snapped it closed at the look given to him by Andy. "She was the pretty one, you see. The only blond child in two generations with a fair complexion. Bella got the fair skin and dark hair and I was left with dark hair and ruddy skin but at least I didn't have to be covered head to toe in sunblocking charms as a child. Poor Bella and 'Cissy always burned, like I don't doubt you do in the sun." Andy sighed and kneaded heartily for a few minutes.

"When she found a man as pretty as she was… well, you know your parents better than I do now, Draco."

"I'm not sure about that." Malfoy whispered.

Andy's lips twitched, a little sadly, Harry thought and she sighed again, lost in the past. "I'm sorry dear, neither of them really liked physical labour of any kind unless it was to better their own physic. I've never known people so vain."

"I have." Harry muttered. "But I don't usually like to talk bad about my relatives so I just don't talk about them."

"I think I'm done here." Malfoy stated with finality. He took his fingers from the crumbling dough and left the room. Harry could hear the water running in the bathroom and rolled his eyes.

Before he could complain Andy took up Malfoy's piece of dough and kneaded it a bit. "Too dry," she said to herself. "Poor boy didn't have enough liquid."

Harry bit his lip at that, hearing the double meaning in her words louder than the actual ones spoken.

* * *

><p>Draco scrubbed at his shaking hands, trying to get off the white flour that caked on the pads of his fingers and under his nails. Cursing the fact of ever knowing that he had living family who could, if given the chance, come to love him, he swore never to return here and be berated for something he didn't even do or feel that pity as she blamed his <em>mother<em>-

Draco took a deep breath and wiped the sweat that had gathered on his forehead from the exertion of dough-making and from embarrassment away, allowing the cool water to sooth his wounded ego. Not much of an ego, he thought, realizing that his life was nothing more than a sideline joke. And, for the first time in a long time, he really had nowhere else to go, except back to that run down shack that was so very kindly left to him by Severus.

Draco snorted as the familiar bubble of jealousy rose up his throat. Even when his only current competition to the wonder-boy's affection was an old witch, a little baby and a vampire, he was still left on the outside, doomed to forever look on from a distance. Damned Potter.

Draco shook his head. No more would he accept that he was still just second… third? No! bloody _fourth_! best…. and he wasn't even counting the other two thirds of that blasted triangle. Draco got his hands as clean as could be in the frigid water. His hands were so cold, they were numb and feeling oddly burned.

Great, he thought, who else can burn their fingers in freezing cold water…

With my luck, the thought continued a second later, Potter had already gotten a bloody blister from cold water!

Draco stole away into the living room to the fireplace, taking care to be quiet as Teddy slept. He lamented, not for the first or last time, that he still had no wand. Luckily, being an animagus didn't require the use of a wand but he couldn't apparate or even use simple charms and was forced to do most everything the muggle way… which didn't really matter since out of his eighteen years, he had only held a wand in hand for six and a half of those years… for not even half his life. Could he even say he was a true wizard? Well, only one more thing that Potter seemed to best him in…

As he reached for the floo powder, Teddy rolled over and Draco froze, unsure of what to do. He had been coming to this house for ten days and chose to ignore the baby for as long as he could. He didn't feed, change or even hold the baby because it was so small and ... almost inhuman! Its head was much larger than its body and it had to be supported continuously in case that bloody huge head fell off- the baby moved again, lying on its tummy, it lifted its head and blinked wide brown eyes. It spotted Draco starting at it and _giggled_. The bloody thing was laughing at him, no doubt because it sensed Draco's inner turmoil. Babies were just creepy that way. It started to wiggle a little more insistently and it stopped smiling at Draco, scrunching up its face as if—

He didn't think- he didn't know why he did some things without bloody well thinking- but he reached over in the baby's bassinet and lifted it up, holding it at arm's length before sighing and bringing it closer into his chest. The little thing sighed and closed its eyes and _bloody-well-fell-asleep!_

Draco tried to put the kid back down in its bed but one tiny fist was scrunched up tightly in Draco's robes, refusing to be released. His shoulders sagged and he walked awkwardly to a chaise and sat down, holding the kid tightly to him and stared into the empty fireplace, wishing that he just leapt threw when he had the chance.

* * *

><p>Harry wiped down the counter, adjusting the three large bowls filled with rising dough, idly wondering where Malfoy went. When the blond went off to pout, at first, Harry wanted to follow and demand to know what gave him the right to act like that in one of the only households that actually tolerated his presence but Andy had, of course, stopped his with a hand on his shoulder, asking if he minded kneading the dough left by Malfoy, that ungrateful wretched—<p>

But by the time he finished with the second round of dough a little while after Andy excused herself to the garden to discover the state of her garden in the rain, Harry was feeling rather peaceful and ashamed of his earlier thoughts. Malfoy was going through just as big an adjustment as Harry had himself over the past few years with the wizard thing, and the gaining and losing of family. Only this time, Malfoy had lost, not only family but his way of living as well, and not in the way Harry has lost his status as a pauper…

He went into the living room to check on Teddy and stopped short of the sight in front of him. Yes, Teddy was still sleeping but he was not in the bassinet, he was cuddled on Malfoy's chest, _clinging_ to the other boy like a lifeline. Malfoy was slouched in the chair, his head lolling to the side and his mouth partially open. He was, astonishingly enough, sound asleep.

Harry choked back a chuckle and summoned a blanket to cover the two of them. Harry looked down at the image of the two of them together, trying to find something wrong or unseemly with it but found nothing. There was no mask, no trace of confusion or loathing that Malfoy usually wore on his face these days, but only softness and serenity and Harry groaned. Now he had yet _another_ fantasy that would play out in his dreams with Malfoy as the star… as if things weren't complicated enough for him now.

Andy came into the room and stopped short as she took in the scene before her. She gave her soft, heartfelt smile and crooked a finger in Harry's direction. He followed.

"I'm famished," she stated, "but let's just wait to wake them up hm? We can have a nice quiet lunch with just the two of us."

"Okay," Harry readily agreed, "Do you think they are alright like that?"

Andy nodded. "It won't hurt them, as long as Teddy doesn't get used to sleeping on someone. That could make things problematic when bedtime rolls around."

Harry grinned and rolled his eyes, fixing himself a sandwich.

* * *

><p>Draco was warm, too warm, and sweating. He could actually feel rivlets of sweat roll off his stomach under his shirt but there was an odd weight resting heavily on his chest. He frowned, trying to remember what he had been doing to get so hot and why he was being held down. The weight wiggled and he jumped in fight, remembering about Teddy at the last minute in time to clutch at him and make sure he didn't roll off. The sudden movement was enough to make Teddy <em>scream<em> and Aunt Andromeda came bustling in from somewhere.

"Oh, look who's hungry!" She cooed, picking up Teddy and pulling the blanket away from Draco, making him realized just how stifling hot he was. Andy smiled at Draco. "I have lunch all ready for you when you want it, dear."

A chuckle made him turn his head around to face Potter who was sitting with a book on his lap, curled on the couch. "A little flustered there, Malfoy?"

Draco frowned, mind still foggy from sleeping in the middle of the day. He ran fingers through his hair and winced when they came out damp from the sweat. Oh how humiliating! he thought.

Potter just chuckled again. "Don't worry, I'm not going to offend your prudish sensibilities, but babies are like little furnaces. Just wait for when you get a heat rash from one." Potter shuddered and Draco barely prevented himself from doing the same.

"Well, Potter. I invite you to try and 'offend my prudish sensibilities.' Who knows, I might just enjoy it." Draco smirked in triumph when Potter's face burned beat red and he tilted his head to one side as if in consideration, "Yes," he continued, "I think I just might."

With that, Draco stood, stretched deeply, arching his back and making his robes (which were still lightly streaked with flour) to pull taut against his chest and abdomen, grinning to himself as he heard a slightly choked sound coming from Potter's direction. Ah, yes, the wonders of a silent stricken boy wonder. Nothing was so marvellous.

Draco entered the bathroom to take care of the necessities and using a damp cloth to wipe some of the sweat away. Truthfully, it had been pure luck that he had stumbled across Potter's sexuality.

The first indicator was the manner in which Draco found Potter after the first night at Spinner's End after feeding Severus. No one who was truly heterosexual would be that comfortable with feeding a same-sex vampire whose bite inspired lust of the most carnal kind.

The second indicator was the banting Draco participated with the ginger fool, Weasley. If Potter's friends could be so easy going about a rather questionable sexual preference (not many people would want to be tied to a blood sucking fiend of the same sex) even though Weasley has been known to overreact on lesser fronts, then it must have been a topic that was accepted a long time ago.

The third indicator and the final strike of the hammer on the nail head, was those long, lingering glances Draco spied Harry giving to either Severus or even himself- which made certain situations quite awkward but oh so very rewarding. Unfortunately, once again, the usual object of those lingering glances and heated looks was Severus and they normally lead to an extra feeding session. Who is Severus to say no to extra blood, after all? Once again, Draco Malfoy was in second place for Potter's attention.

He rolled his eyes and sneered at his reflection and stormed out of the bathroom, intent on finding that lunch Aunt Andromeda had promised.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passed slowly for Harry. It was the first day in which Malfoy stayed for its entirety, but that didn't make it any more exciting. Dinner was finished just after seven and Malfoy even helped with washing the dishes and not only drying them. He had bundled up the three loafs of bread thrust upon him by Andy and left without a backward glance. At least some things never change.<p>

It was Harry's turn to put Teddy down to bed so he bathed him and dressed him in a thin sleeper to help stave off the oppressive heat and laid the baby down in his crib in the room next to Andy's. Once Teddy was down and settled, Harry left the room, pausing in front of Andy's door when he spied the light on. Normally she stayed up until late, reading to pass the time. He raised his hand to knock when he heard voices on the other side. It was Andy's and- someone else's. Harry listened for a moment before the voice registered. Ted Tonks. Andy had said something about him still living, or rather haunting, here. He shook his head, grateful that none of his friends who had passed away stuck around. Living with the memories would be hard enough, and seeing them and talking to them seemed like a cruel joke to Harry.

Harry went outside, murmering an umbrella charm to keep the rain from soaking his clothes. It didn't stop raining once today, but perhaps they just needed a good soaking. He would have liked to watch the sunset as he normally did on those nights, but the sun was hidden behind so many layers of rain clouds that it was impossible to even guess its position except from that dark greyish haze. He knew what to expect, however, though it didn't stop him from leaping out of his skin when that hand descended on his shoulder.

He whirled around and faced the pale, thin face belonging to his own vampire.

"Nerves finally failing you?" He asked, applying pressure on Harry's shoulder and bringing him closer to his body.

Harry stared up into those dark eyes. "Today was a complete cock-up."

Snape chuckled darkly. "Yes, according to the ranting I heard just before sundown, it _was_ a _cock-up._" The infliction in Snape's voice as he spoke the last two words caused Harry's face to burn and his memory to flare with images of Malfoy waking up after napping, hair sweaty and his light robes sticking to what Harry dreamed was a chiselled chest.

Well past the point where Harry should have attempted to clear his mind, he was pulled roughly against the vampire and a low growl rose in his ear.

"It would seem that Legilimens is a natural talent for my type of vampire." He spoke low and threatening and Harry winced as that mouth by his ear opened and a sharp tooth hooked on his lobe and pulled, slicing into the flesh found there.

One moment, Harry was outside in Snape's arms and at the next, conscious moment, he found himself on his bed, his wand being plucked from his fingers and the familiar hum of silencing and locking spells surrounding his room as the door was firmly shut. He blinked up at Snape who was fuming. "Do you fantasise about Draco, Harry? Do you dream about him? When you rut up against me, do you think about Draco's body? Do you Harry?" the questions disintegrated into hisses and Harry closed his eyes, allowing the sibilant tones to light fires within him. The words themselves, meaningless and unintelligible, were only the means of transferring that wonderful voice to his ears.

Snape shook him roughly. "You will not close your eyes. You will see me and not imagine Draco as the one from whom you receive pleasure."

Harry's eyes snapped open and he watched as Snape lowered his head to the junction between neck and shoulder, licking the skin there lightly. A hand descended where no hand besides his has touched before, teasing lightly along the edge of his groin, adding pressure only through the fingertips. Harry barely felt his eyes close this time when a growl and sharp tug on his ear made him open them again. He shook his head.

"Snape, please…_God_, Snape." The hand maintained a steady influx of pressure. "More!" the vampire seemed happy enough with the litany falling from his lips in the form of his name for he allowed Harry to close his eyes as his hand moved. "Snape please Snape there more _there_! Oh _please_ Snape Snape Snape."

Harry felt the moment when Snape was ready to feed. The hand stilled, causing him to groan in need and jerk his hips slightly up but the lips were back at the junction and the telltale prick of pain registered for Harry. His mouth fell slack and his eyes opened, though completely sightless through his glasses as Snape began to _suck_. His most talented hand had undone button and zipper on his jeans and was _stroking_ skin to skin—

He came, from the light contact of a bare hand on him _there_ and he came, lightening coursing through his veins but Snape didn't stop. He squeezed harshly and sucked harder at Harry's neck. Harry shook, over sensitized skin sparking from two different places at once and before even recognizing that familiar churning in his stomach, Harry's eyelids fluttered and his lungs froze and his heart stopped and he came again, expelling nothing but the weak whimper from somewhere in the very back of his throat.

* * *

><p>Severus watched as Potter's body jerked helplessly even after his brain stopped functioning. He pulled away from that succulent neck and licked his lips for the stray drops of blood.<p>

He smirked.

The look on Potter's face when he realized that he was aware of the little stalk and evade him and his godson were doing… it almost made him doubt his own hearing or perhaps make him think that he had misunderstood the nature of Draco's rants that evening. He had intended on intimidating Potter, but when Potter's mind suddenly opened up to him and he _saw_—

There was no denying the attraction between the two boys and Severus had felt an uncontrollable need to possess Potter in every complete way. It was only his hunger and the boy's lack of sexual experience that prevented Severus from stripping the boy bare and claiming him in the most carnal fashion. That, and the small fact that he found no attraction to the boy himself, other than the divine nectar flowing through those pumping veins and a lingering desire to see the boy finally submit.

Severus frowned at Potter's sleeping face. A lock of hair falling just so to cover that famous scar and crooked glasses hanging from one ear making a mockery of their job of framing those closed eyes, he should have looked like an exact replica of his father. But he wasn't. There were features on his face which were just _Harry_ and they were no longer shadowed by the icon that became the boy's father. Severus stared at him pensively, trying to re-associate the boy with James Potter but it was not possible. Oh, the memories were still there but the feelings associated with those horrors were… gone, as if they never truly existed. Severus remembered every taunt, every prank and insult that was directed to him in the school yard as a child, but they had lost the power of making him angry. Just as the infractions the boy himself has caused Severus in the classroom, or any other time he undermined his authority failed to arouse a negative reaction.

He shook his head. He had, as a result of waking from the dead as a vampire, taken it upon himself to research every avenue open for perusal. The one, very important aspect which stuck out to Severus was the lack of firsthand accounts. Everything, from the blood lust, heightened senses and even some of the more specialized gifts granted to those who have turned were accounts written by scholars and witnesses.

Severus knew, for instance, that his strength increases with his thirst as does his hearing, eyesight and otherworldly sense. They also fade when he is filled with human blood. Directly after a feeding, Severus is at his most self-reflexive, examining how he feels inside and it almost feels… human. As a result, Severus has also noticed a change in Potter. When Potter feeds from Severus, he is given a direct dose of vampire blood and takes on some of the more potent qualities. Due to the type of vampire Severus is, those qualities fade over time and the longer they go between each feeding the more "human" Potter becomes and the more "vampiric" Severus becomes.

The feeling of being partway human once more is the reason for which Severus refuses Blood Lollies. Those candies, a choice for vampires turned by other vampires, are made from a collection of blood replenishing potion, animal blood and (very rarely) human blood. *Note that it is the last ingredient on the packaging.* Severus had of course tried those first. It was during the three day absence of Potter's blood and his determination to stave off the desire longer. Needless to say, they did not work.

Severus gazed down at the sleeping boy and reached deep in his pocket for a vial. He snagged a vein with a tooth and allowed his own blood to drip and collect in the vial. Once filled and stoppered, Severus placed it gently on the bedside table and reached over and removed Potter's glasses, making the connection between father and son even more obscure. Stamping hard on the need to smooth out that hair, Severus opened the door, breaking locking and silencing charms in the process and floo'd back to Spinner's End.


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: Oh lucky you! This morning, reading for school does not seem appealing so here is another chapter. Big thank yous to everyone reading and enjoying this story! And of course, thanks to whitetyger123, Pri-Chan 1410, mirage, and SnoochieBoochie for your reviews. I live to serve._

_I guess I should add a disclaimer here. I liberally borrowed from Jim Butcher's concept of how to repel a vampire as well as_ Supernatural's_ methods. Can you pick out the differences?_

Warnings: questionable ways in which to obtain blood. Necking. Short chapter and that's it!

.XIX.

Day 21

June 22nd

It's been three days since Malfoy came back and Andy's concern was starting to wear on Harry. The first night wasn't too terrible. It was dinner time and Teddy had been fed and bathed before she finally gave in with a small, "I suppose Draco can't make it tonight." As she and Harry tucked in. The second night was worse and Harry had been on the brunt end of it.

"Please just see if he's okay." Andy begged him, but Harry had refused. Malfoy may have been the object of his desire and decent material for wanking but that didn't mean that Harry liked him. Also, at this point, Harry had a horrible suspicion that involved Snape keeping Malfoy away from him and deep down, Harry truly did not want to exasperate the situation by popping up and 'rescuing' Malfoy from Snape. That night, Snape didn't show as planned either, making Harry's own worry increase exponentially.

By the third evening, Andy was hysterical, threatening to call the aurors if Harry didn't at least go see if Malfoy was fine. After a rather tense dinner, Harry dressed in jeans and a dark sweater, a pair of trainers and pocketed his wand. He nodded solemnly to Andy and stepped into the floo, calling out "Spinner's End." He saw the grim look on Andy's face when the green flames roared up and swept him away.

Harry stumbled and collapsed, smacking his nose harshly against the wood floor and cursed. "'Odamnit!"

"Classy, Potter. Very classy." A drawl came from his left. "You just have to work on the landing a bit and you should be ready to compete!"

Harry lifted his face and wiped his sleeve across his face, smearing blood. "You're a prick, Malfoy."

"How kind of you to notice that, yes, I do have a prick."

Harry glared at Malfoy's smug look and climbed to his feet. "Arsehole," Malfoy's eyes gleamed and he opened his mouth, "Shut up!" Harry snapped and Malfoy shut his mouth again, smirking like a madman.

Harry dabbed at his face with the back of his hand and it came away shiny with blood and snot. "Ugh." He said quietly to himself then glared even harsher at Malfoy. "Where the hell have you been? I thought I was going to come here and find a rotting corpse!"

"And why, oh mighty one, would I be dead?" Malfoy drawled, leaning back on one leg and crossing his arms over his chest.

What a ponce, Harry thought distractedly as his mind picked it up from there, supplying images in detail on how that poncy-ness can be best put to use. Instead of giving in to what his mind was oh-so-helpfully supplying, Harry snarled. "Snape's being-"

"Snape, yes, I know." Malfoy rolled his eyes and opened the hidden door leading to the stairs. He ascended halfway and looked down at Harry. "Are you coming?"

"Bastard!" Harry grumbled and followed.

"I miss the body parts already." Was Malfoy's retort and Harry bit his lip to keep from saying something- anything else.

"Where are you?" Harry demanded as he reached the top. He turned to his right and stopped cold. There, on the door, was a pentagram, fashioned out of silver and glowing in the dim light of the hallway. Hanging above the door was a wreath of garlic. Harry opened the door in awe and saw Malfoy's room, completely covered in silver stars, pentagrams and garlic and wide shallow basins filled with a clear liquid. "What did you do?" he whispered.

Malfoy was sitting on his bed, in the process of stringing another wreath of garlic. Sprigs of sage, most probably from Andy's garden, lay at his side. Malfoy waved a hand. "Have a seat."

Harry sat where he stood, just inside the door which he nudged closed with his foot. "Well?"

Malfoy began weaving the sage in between the gatherings of garlic as he spoke. "When I got home that night, Friday, I think, Severus may have heard some things. He… confronted me when he woke and saw… something. It wasn't pleasant." He ran a hand down his face tiredly and paused to sniff at it, frowning in disgust. "He left shortly after to find you, I suppose and I set to work making this room as vampire proof as I know how."

Harry looked around. "Impressive," he said then turned back to Malfoy. "I'm sorry. Maybe it would be better if you didn't—"

"Don't tell me to stay away!" Malfoy suddenly snarled, jerking violently and causing the wreath to fall to the floor. "I did and I can't! Do not tell me that!"

Harry stared at him, shocked. "But Malfoy—"

"No! Harry!" Malfoy stopped and blushed. "Potter, I tried and I don't want to anymore. Once I was finished with this room, I was going to go back. I'm almost done and then I'll be secure during the night." He bent and picked up the wreath. "I… Molly gave me the garlic and I took the sage before then, just in case. When I'm done, Severus won't even be able to come up the stairs."

"Are you sure that it works?" Harry asked quietly, trying not to contemplate the use of his first name.

Malfoy just snorted. "I've been living here for three weeks, Potter. I haven't exactly been sitting around twiddling my thumbs, you know. It's just taken a while to get all the materials and test them on Severus when he's feeling…"

"Human?"

Malfoy looked away. "Yeah, human." He gestured to the items around the room. "The garlic actually hides my scent while the silver and the shapes made from them, repel. The holy water burns like acid. He can't even go near the vapours."

A strange clock on the wall chimed and Harry stood closer to study it. He pushed his glasses up his nose a bit and winced at the still tender appendage and whirled around to face Malfoy. "The solar calendar?"

Malfoy nodded, his eyes a little fearful as he looked at the mass of garlic still surrounding him on the bed.

"Stay here then and I'll do what I have to do." Harry hesitated for a second before nodding to Malfoy and slipping out the door.

* * *

><p>Harry had just enough time to compose himself and prepare mentally for the feeding about to take place. His conversation with Malfoy bothered him. He knew Snape could be unstable and the games they all played could very well cost the blond his life. Harry frowned and wondered if it was truly worth the risk.<p>

He made it to the ground floor just as the second hidden door leading to the cellars creaked open, displaying Snape in all his vampiric glory.

Snape paused and sniffed at the air and turned to look at Harry in suspicion. "You are bleeding." He said tonelessly.

"Floo." Harry pointed to the fireplace and the small smear of blood on the floor. "Can't seem to get it right."

Snape smirked and glided closer, encircling Harry's waist with one arm. "Tonight, we'll sleep in my room." He spoke lowly in that silky voice that seemed to drip like liquid down Harry's spine.

"Uh huh." Harry said, his mind quickly overcome by lust and desire as Snape pulled him through the open bookcase and down rickety stairs.

"Did you like what I did to you that night, Harry? Did you like the feel of my hand on you, skin to skin?" Harry shivered, hearing his name on that succulent tongue. He stood limply as Snape guided his hands above his head and pulled his sweater up and over, dragging cool, dry hands over the skin revealed. "Would you like to feel my hands again, Harry? Would you like to feel them on you here?" Snape asked as he dragged a single finger over Harry's chest and circled a nipple lightly. "Or here?" that finger was brushed lower and Harry felt his muscles in his stomach contract. The finger circled his bellybutton much like his nipple and Harry groaned.

Snape paused and leaned in close, swiping his tongue across Harry's cheek and then around his nose. Harry pulled away swiftly, his arousal broken cleanly in two as he watched Snape lick his lips for stray drops of blood.

"Harry." Snape moaned, leaning in close again but Harry stepped fully out of his embrace and stared at Snape.

"Did you seriously _lick_ my nose?" he asked indignantly.

Snape's eyes were black and his skin was translucently pale. He was shaking and starving and no longer even slightly human. "Harry." He whined, his voice breaking slightly and Harry stared in amazement. Never, even during that time when Snape tried to starve himself, has he seen the man-vampire!- in such a state. "Harry, please. I need you. Harry."

Harry frowned, suddenly unsure and extremely self-conscious. With his mind on the upper floor of the home and aware that Snape in this condition was a step away from deadly, he took a single, hesitant step toward Snape and was immediately pressed against a stone wall. Lips pressed insistently against his neck and opened, piercing the skin with thin sharp teeth. The sensation of blood drawing smoothly into such a mouth blanked Harry's mind and brought his arousal back full force. He began rutting against the strong thigh holding him up. It wasn't enough. Harry shifted, feeling the burn of his bare back against rough stone wall but not caring in the least for the pain it caused. He dragged a hand down his torso and struggled to unhook his jeans singlehanded. He nearly cried out in relief as two cold hands joined his, efficiently snapping the button and zip and plunging in to the confined space. Long fingers wrapped tightly around him, stroking in time to his sucks and licks at the bitemark. Harry flexed his hips, pushing roughly into that hand moving over him and came, crying out as a vicious pull of that hand added an extra _twist_.

Harry registered nothing, barely able to open his mouth as a torn wrist pressed against his lips. He latched on, however, and sucked lazily at the blood flowing from his vampire into his mouth. He swallowed, enjoying the feel of slippery smooth essence flowing down his throat and his awareness finally gave way.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: I do apologise for the long wait and I only have one excuse. I was procrastinating with this chapter. I am in no ways joking when I say this piece is the only reason I have labelled this fic 'Horror.' You can let me know if I was over-reacting or justified in that decision.

Thanks to all you who have been reading this story. I hope that you continue to enjoy it! Also, big thanks to whitetyger123, brightsun89, Melikalilly, captain kinna, Paige Taylor, and SnoochieBoochie for all your comments!

Warnings: Impulsive Harry, sex, blood play, and dubious consent.

.XX.

Day 22

June 23rd

Harry woke up on the couch, a broken down, thread bare settee, with a backache. The first thing he noticed was a full ray of light shining directly into his eyes. He hissed, turning into the back of the couch, hiding his face.

"Good morning!" an awful, cheerful voice exclaimed.

Harry mumbled something that sounded like 'crook loff' and then, slightly clearer, "Shut the damn blinds!"

"Temper temper," Malfoy said but the harsh, burning light dimed suddenly and Harry looked up.

"What happened?" he asked, automatically scrubbing at his mouth and neck, feeling dried and flaky bits of blood. It was fully day outside, not just morning but leaking into afternoon. Never has Harry slept so long after a feeding and he felt as if he could turn over and sleep again if it wasn't for the thick crick in his back. He pulled up with his shoulder, trying to crack it.

Malfoy was sitting on the floor fiddling with a long string of garlic. "He feed from you, and left. I didn't dare go look because I didn't know when he would be back, but he came back and I heard him move you up here then he went down again. At sunup, I came down to see if you were still breathing and you wouldn't wake up." Malfoy shrugged then smirked. "Rough night?" he asked.

Harry's answering glare was quite tame as he shifted, still trying to stretch his back at the right angle.

"Are you okay?" Malfoy asked with a slight sneer. "Or did you do more than feed him last night?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded, trying not to think about skin on skin contact.

"You're having a hard time sitting aren't you? He fucked you, right?"

"What the hell?" Harry yelped, jumping up.

"You know what, never mind. It's not like it's my business or anything." Malfoy stood with his string of garlic and carried it over to the hidden doorway leading upstairs.

"The hell it's your business! But for your information, no! Snape did _not_ fuck me!" Harry spat, glaring at Malfoy's back.

"Right then." he replied and his shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly. Harry watched in confusion as the blond boy continued upstairs, slamming doors behind him as he went.

"What an asshole!" Harry burst out, snagging floo powder and swiftly flooing back to Andy's.

He stumbled out of the fireplace, thankfully not falling flat on his face as he managed to catch himself on his hands, jarring his elbows and shoulders and wrenching his poor back again.

"Hello, Harry dear. Oh!" Andy said, sitting on the couch feeding Teddy his bottle. She quickly brought him up to her shoulder and hid his face. "Harry, go wash up."

He blushed at Andy's stern tone and ran for his bedroom, emerging half an hour later feeling cleaner indeed.

Harry found Andy and Teddy sitting at the kitchen table this time. Andy was feeding the baby wheat cereal and was actually succeeding. He sat down beside Andy, embarrassed. "Um."

"Did you find Draco?" Andy asked, wiping Teddy's face with a damp cloth.

Harry bent his head. "Yeah, he's…uh, coming over tonight. Just had to secure his room against… erm."

"That poor boy," Andy tisked, picking up the spoon again. "To live in that house in those conditions..." she sighed. "I just don't know how he does it. Well, make something to eat and don't forget your potion this time."

Harry quickly fixed a plate of leftovers from the night before and settled in, picking at his food while trying not to be too uncomfortable in the sudden, awkward silence left over from where Andy was dutifully feeding Teddy with more concentration than she has ever used before. Harry bowed his head, working his way up to decent indignation caused from being treated like a child.

Once he was finished and Teddy mashed the rest of the cereal between his gummed jaws, Andy took up his plate and deposited Teddy into Harry's lap just as a smell rose from the little baby. "Your turn," she quipped with more force than necessary.

Harry winced, gingerly holding Teddy, trying to cuddle with the baby and hold the baby as far away as he could. He could still feel the rumbles. Yep, he was right. Andy was quite angry at him. "You still like me, don't you Teddy?" Harry pursed his lips at the baby and Teddy giggled and lunged forward in his hands, reaching out as far as he could and grabbed a fist full of round lens glasses.

"Hey! You little stink, give those back!" Teddy blew a spit bubble and giggled again. Harry just grinned and set to changing Teddy.

"I suppose you couldn't call last night." Andy asked when she returned.

Harry blushed in shame then scowled and shook his head. "I didn't even know I would be gone."

"Harry," Andy took a breath. "When you moved in, I asked that you let me know when you stay out for the night. I realize that your situation may make this difficult, but… I've already lost one child and I don't want to lose another."

His jaw dropped open in shock and he felt shame creep up his spine. "But you told me to go talk to Malfoy! You _knew_ where I was going and you know my so called 'situation!'" Harry stressed the last word, isolating it from the sentence and making it into a word so ugly that Andy actually looked faintly disgusted.

"Harry Potter, you listen to me –"

"No, Andy. I appreciate everything you have done for me, I really do, but you're not my mother, my grandmother or even my aunt. You have no relation to me and have no right to get mad at me for doing what you told me to!" Harry shifted Teddy to the carpet and got up. He glared at the fireplace, struggling to keep it in focus as it jiggled, as if wanting to escape. "I won't be here tonight." He said, still facing away from Andy. He snatched the floo powder and tossed it into the flames.

"Harry! Wait!" Andy called.

"I can't." he whispered and jumped in.

Andy watched in dumbfounded silence until, seconds later, the flames flared once more and spilled a body onto the carpet.

"Damn." The bundle yelped. "I hate crossing paths!"

"Draco?" Andy gasped.

"Hello Aunt." Draco stood and dusted off his robes. He looked around with a faint air of interest. "Where's Potter?"

* * *

><p>Harry threw another rock at the closed coffin, watching as it <em>pinged<em> off and bounced to the floor. He scratched at the concrete floor before grabbing another piece and tossing it at the coffin. This one didn't hit. The lid snapped up and a pale hand shot out, catching the little stone. The rest of Snape's body rose seamlessly out and the scowl on his face gave Harry a sharp pang of homesickness for Hogwarts.

"Can you do anything that doesn't involve annoying me, Potter?"

"You took your time." Harry shot back.

"You did take astronomy correct? You do know the functions of summer and the lengthening of days?" Snape snarked, coming to a stop before Harry. He crouched, bringing their faces close together. "Have you taken the potion?"

"I don't care about the fucking potion!"

Snape snarled and turned away, viciously attacking the two lone cupboards in the back of the dingy basement. He carfully selected a vial and stalked back towards Harry. Extracting the cork, he held the vial out. Harry glared, refusing to take it.

"If you die from blood loss, Potter, I _will_ kill you." Snape growled lowly.

"Seems a little redundant, doesn't it?" Harry snapped, turning his head away. His anger, swirling around quickly and making him lightheaded, wasn't enough to stop that slight pulse of desire as Snape came close once more and gripped Harry's hair tight in one hand, forcing his head back and his mouth open.

The cool liquid pooled in his mouth and trickled down his throat. That hand in his hair tightened briefly and smooth lips touched the shell of his ear. "Swallow." The command came in silky tones that had Harry gulping from pure reaction, allowing the liquid to flow, uninhibited down his throat. The hand released him. "Idiot boy!"

Snape stood and recorked the vial, taking a step away from Harry. "What unimportant, teenage angst filled reason causes you to come here, of all places, and disturb my valuable undead time?"

Harry licked his lips, tasting the bitter potion on his tongue and feeling the phantom hand of Snape's gripping his hair. He drew in a shaky breath, ignoring the words that heavenly voice spoke.

"Snape?" Harry said quietly. "If I ask you to do something, can you promise not to use it against me?"

Snape sneered. "Do you really think, after all this time, I would willingly do a thing _for you_?"

"I— please." Harry ducked his head, words flying through him, pushing him into this decision. It's not like Ron and Hermione would care. They seemed surprised enough that I haven't… and Malfoy doesn't care no matter how much I… and Andy just sees me as another worry… Maybe I shouldn't… "Never mind." He whispered. "Sorry."

Harry stumbled up the stairs and froze when he reached the door. Running away? Was that really what he was reduced to? He shook his head, suddenly unconcerned for whatever damage he might be doing to his reputation. What reputation exactly? Rushing in without consideration? Wasn't that what made him end up in this mess with Snape? And with Malfoy? And, well, everything else he was thrown into? Harry opened the door and slipped out, apparating the moment the door closed behind him.

Sometimes, impulsion was the only way for Harry to make those important decisions. You know, the life changing ones that have the sole purpose of altering the perception of people. In Harry's case, his desire, lead by the overwhelming need to finally take control of his life and step passed the expectations of those around him, was not rational. And he knew it was not rational and so he somehow found the courage to take a step back and evaluate what he wants for himself. It wasn't what he was ever so tempted to ask Snape for.

He walked slowly up to the house, angling for the back door. He wasn't quite ready to face Andy to apologize and there was no way he wanted to confront Malfoy. He looked up and frowned. The light in his bedroom was on and he could see a shape moving. Inching closer, Harry set his jaw and spun on the spot, apparating out once more. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy was in _his_ room, getting ready to sleep in _his_ bed. Screw them all! And screw rationality with a broom handle! He was doing what he chose and fuck the consequences.

Harry threw open the door of the house and stalked in, finding his objective leaning passively against the wall.

"I want you to fuck me!"

* * *

><p>And Snape did just that. Once Harry demanded that Snape have sex with him, it had taken an offering of blood. The blood, at a time when it wasn't necessary for survival and sanity was the only thing that made Snape agree. Harry knew and didn't care.<p>

Foolishly, Harry tried to kiss him, but Snape growled and attacked Harry's throat instead, silently warning Harry away from trying such a thing again. He was naked in mere seconds, his clothes lying in torn strips on the ground under him and he withed uncontrollably under Snape. This was good. This was familiar, the weight of Snape above him and that supple tongue plying his skin, preparing it for penetration.

Things changed then, and Harry felt the first prickle of unease which he shoved back into the dark recesses of his mind. Snape's hand drifted down, bypassing his cock and circling around his hip, following the curve of his thigh and migrated lower. The first press of a finger sent a jolt of excitement up Harry's spine, followed closely by an even sharper sense of discomfort as it entered, dry, into his body. He expelled his breath in one long hiss and Snape chuckled. "Not what you wanted?"

The tone, a mockery and the words, a challenge. Harry lifted his head and met Snape's black eyes. "Just do it!" he ground out, flexing his hips and forcing that finger in deeper.

Snape smirked and lowered his head to Harry's neck, breaking the skin with sharp teeth, sucking a little at the blood forming there. He added a second finger.

Harry wilted, in no way physically aroused and he had never been emotionally attached, not to Snape. The vampire sucked hard at Harry's neck and pulled his fingers partially out, curving them upward and he thrust back in, forcing skin to part and chafe.

But.. there was- _there! _Something, something _good_ jolted Harry and his arched his back slightly, trying to find that something again, in the process, causing the clenching skin to pull uncomfortably along those moving finger until he was certain that he just imagined it. "Fuck!" he exclaimed with tears pricking his eyes. There was no way something good happened while he was currently being forced apart by two unyielding spear points.

Those fingers pulled out and entered him again, more angled and curved than before. Snape's eyes gleamed as they focused on Harry's agonized face.

Harry jolted again, his eyes going wide in surprise and his muscles clamping down. There was no second guessing the sensation then. An icy sensation zapped the base of his spine and he bore down, more insistent on taking those fingers deeper into him. The drag of dry hardness within his body was quickly outweighed as Snape brushed that spot again, his long, spidery fingers finding it with ease.

Harry gasped, pleasure zipping up and down his body like a damn yo-yo until he was certain that anything that happened would be absolutely wonderful.

Snape tisked and removed his hand, and mouth simultaneously away from Harry's body. He groaned out a "No!" before he could stop.

The vampire raised an eyebrow. "Do you wish me to enter you without a lubricant? That can be arranged."

Harry flexed his lower muscles and winced, unable to forget the pain even with that shot of pure pleasure. He shook his head. "Just hurry it up."

"As you wish." Snape purred. He darted down and Harry had the unimaginable vision of Snape taking in his half hard cock, sucking and licking it. The image was enough for his blood to travel south, filling him so quickly that, coupled with the blood already taken, his head swam.

Snape did not, as daringly hoped, take Harry's now fully fledged erection into his mouth. He tongued the juncture of groin and thigh before sinking his teeth into the flesh. Harry hissed again, bucking his hips up into that mouth and forcing the teeth to open an even larger wound. The blood flowed free and Snape smeared it with his hand, over Harry's cock and down, lower over his entrance, pressing the fluid into Harry's body.

Moments later, Snape was on him again, using one hand for support while the other was below, between their bodies, opening the way and guiding the way. Harry bucked, cursing out as the pain returned full throttle and much, much more… intense. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, hanging on to Snape's arm, trying to pull the man away but too overcome to direct any force behind his movement.

Through the pain, Harry felt Snape stop and wait and Harry registered his own panting and groaning, unable to stop those small insignificant sounds from coming out of his mouth. Gradually, his heart rate slowed and his managed to take in controlled albeit shaky breaths.

Then Snape began to move. The pain, though not as all consuming, was just as intense and Harry bit his lip, praying for a quick ending.

It wasn't.

Snape moved above him, pushing and pulling and every so often, he would duck his head and suck at Harry's neck, pulling more of the vital blood into his mouth. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Snape tensed and pressure on Harry's bowels increased with a sickening sensation. Snape pulled away and stood, his black robes drenched and stained at the front. Harry stayed where he lay, completely exhausted and on the bounds of agony. Even the light movement of his chest as he drew in breath caused him pain so he dared not get up.

Through shuttered eye lids, he saw Snape stare down at him, raise a shaky hand and stare at it, stained as it was in blood. It dropped to his side. "I could have easily killed you, you stupid, stupid child."

Harry, surprised but lacking the energy to express it, just let his head fall to the side and his eyes slid closed.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thank you! All your wonderful reviews (whitetyger123, Pri-Chan 1410, and Byzantea) and favourites and alerts send me strolling atop the world! Also- I have been dreadfully sick for a good two days (pathetic I know- but I really don't get sick!) so they really made my day. I hope everyone enjoys the month of March!

Warnings: Draco gets some hand action, Harry gets a heart to heart and there be brooding herein.

.XXI.

Day 23

June 24th

Harry woke, wrapped in warm blankets on a soft bed he dimly recognized as his own. Light filtered through his window and he blinked blearily up at the ceiling, trying to remember how he made it home the night before. He could remember quite clearly the argument-that-was-not-really-an-argument with Andy, the confrontation with Snape and his ridiculous spur of the moment decision, his fear then strengthened resolve when he saw Malfoy preparing to sleep in _his _bed!

Oh God!

Snape... He had sex with Snape.

_Snape_ has had his cock up Harry's arse!

A slight noise notified him to the presence of someone else in the room. Harry tried to sit up quickly, falling back with a cry as knives carved into him. A hand forced his shoulders up and a vial was pressed to his lips. He did nothing to resist as he drank down the liquid offered.

A tisking sound came from somewhere above him but he was soon carried away again.

* * *

><p>Harry blinked his eyes sleepily at his ceiling once more. It was darker than the last time he remembered being awake, but not by much. Perhaps only a few hours passed.<p>

"Potter, if you don't want me to shove anything up your arse, I would suggest that you snap out of it and wake up!"

Ah, right! Harry shot up, groping blindly for his glasses. "What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" he groaned, as his pain engulfed backside. He gritted his teeth and scooted further away from Malfoy, intending to put as much space between them as he could. He looked down, surprised to be wearing a long white night shirt. His first thought, bizarrely, was the fact that he truly shouldn't be allowed to wear white anymore. He shook his head then, trying to suss out traditional ethics that belong to Muggles alone and their women, of all people. Last Harry checked, he was not a Muggle and definitely not a _woman!_

Malfoy stood by the side of the bed, arms folded and looking annoyed. "No need to thank me or anything for nursing you back to heath even if it was your own blasted fault!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry shot back. The pain in his muscles faded to a tolerable throb and he flexed experimentally, wincing when the pain returned in a stab.

"I'm talking about Snape, coming here with you unconscious and nearly dead from blood loss. It took three full vials of the stuff that is specially targeted to _you_, to even bring you back from the brink. That damn vampire can't do magic and so he had to come here so we could spell the stuff directly into your system." Malfoy paused for a short breath before carrying on. "Then there was the damage that had to be fixed. He nearly tore your throat out and lucky for you, Andy has a healer friend who was able to come over to fix that before it scarred over. Too bad he didn't find the one by your dick in time."

Harry jerked, reaching down to grab himself. He sighed in relief as his hands closed around his penis, feeling as it always had. He glared at Malfoy's scornful laughter. "Worried he bit it off, aren't you? I was talking about the scar. It'll never go away now."

"You bloody bastard!" Harry snarled, looking around for his wand.

Malfoy moved his hand up and Harry saw it, dangling from two white fingers. "You really think that I'm the bloody bastard?" Malfoy asked. He turned his back on Harry, tossing a small glass jar over his shoulder. "You better apply that as soon as possible. The healer was certain he cleared up all the mess left from Snape but... you never know."

Harry's hand shot out and caught the jar, flipping it over in his hand and he read the label. _Healing Salve_. He opened the lid and scooped out the thick creamy substance on his finger and sighed, guessing rather accurately where it had to be applied. How mortifying.

* * *

><p>Harry exited his room, certainly feeling better. He showered, shaved and dressed. The scar on his thigh was small though it was rough and deeply ingrained. An inch closer and it would have been right at the base of his—<p>

He shivered, not wanting to follow that line of thought. He entered the kitchen with a spark of trepidation, not sure how to broach any kind of topic with Andy and not wanting to even see that smug smirk of Malfoy's for even a second—

Harry stopped on the threshold of the kitchen, his slight movement drawing attention from Andy and Malfoy who were seated at the table, eating lunch. Teddy was present also, gurgling happily around a big plastic mixing spoon. His wand lay on the table in front of his usual seat.

"Um…" he started, feeling heat rise up into his face. "Uh, Andy? I.. ah… I—"

"Sit, Harry, and eat. Before your pasta gets cold." Andy patted the table and watched.

Harry sat, gingerly as his body met the unforgiving wood of the chair. "Thanks." He mumbled, shifting and wincing.

"Oh sorry, dear." Andy said before pulling out her want and murmuring a cushioning charm. "I'm usually rather unsympathetic when it comes to the consequences of drinking and sex, however, in your case Harry…"

"One should really know not to go a round or two with a vampire, isn't that right, _Harry_?" Malfoy commented, emphasizing Harry's name in such a way that caused his blood to rise, and not in a good way.

"Stuff it, Malfoy." Harry growled.

"I believe you already have." Malfoy quipped, an unfriendly look in his eye.

"Harry, Draco, enough! I will not have this behaviour at the dinner table!" Andy commanded loudly. "Draco, Harry is of age and it's not unheard of for donors to have an intimate relationship with their vampires! Harry, Draco has sat beside you ever since Severus left just before dawn, so please show a little appreciation."

Harry scowled at his plate and idly picked up his fork. He took a bite.

"Very good." Andy said. "I expect you to eat everything, Harry." And with that, Andy left Harry alone with Malfoy.

Harry picked at his food and sighed nearly inaudibly. He should be ravenous. He didn't eat at all yesterday except some of the bread he found in Malfoy's room, but he didn't feel like he could stomach all that pasta either. The sigh this time carried a little more weight.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and set down his fork. "You're such a… I don't even have the words to describe what you are. Grow up, Potter." Malfoy slammed his fork on the table and rose.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To bed," Malfoy sneered. "I'm sure you don't need me to hold your hand for the rest of the day." He turned and muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Harry's temporarily keen hearing to pick up. "Merlin knows I've done enough of that last night." Harry then heard the door to his room close softly.

Annoyance, along with anger and a little bit of concern welled up within him. but the most overpowering was the shame that coated everything. He acted impulsively, erratically last night and Andy and Malfoy had to deal with the consequences while he was oblivious. And Snape… did he really stay by his side until just before dawn? The man had more than enough guilt in his first life, Harry shouldn't have added to it in his undead life. He plopped his head down on the table and groaned. Nothing, not anything, he did turned out except killing Voldemort and that's only due to a prophecy. Whatever he did under his own power backfired in the most painful and hardfelt ways.

He chucked ironically. He couldn't even loose his virginity without causing everyone around him pain. Teddy, still in his highchair, gurgled and said, "mamamamama."

"You still love me, buddy? Don't you?" Harry asked, turning his head to see the baby.

"Yayayayayaya bruuuubb."

"I love you too, Teddy." Harry sat up and looked at his full plate. "And you know what, I can't eat anything. Let's hide this from Grandma Andy and go for a walk. What do you say?"

"Aggga."

"Deal!" Harry snatched up his wand and vanished the food on his plate, picking up the dishes and setting them in the sink. He quickly washed and rinsed them, setting them to dry and then got Teddy ready for a long walk, away from the house and the people inside.

The day was hot, and the little town was pleasantly empty. Harry pushed the stroller, all at once, going faster and pushing down on the handles so the front wheels come off the ground. He stopped suddenly and looked in at Teddy and laughed. Teddy, no matter how crazily Harry handled the stroller, was oblivious. His head was tucked down against his shoulder and he was sound asleep. Harry took a moment to adjust the baby's neck then carried on, stopping at a muggle playground and finding a bench in the shade.

He hummed in satisfaction with the weather and let the turmoil of his mind filter away.

An hour later, Harry entered through the front door, carrying a happy Teddy in his arms. He put the baby down and went in search of Andy. She was in the garden.

"Andy?" Harry asked tentatively.

She looked up, pulling a weed as she went. "Yes, Harry?"

"Uh… Sorry." His hand reached up and rubbed nervously at the back of his neck before falling limply at his side again. "I, uh, don't know what came over me."

Andy sighed and sat back on her heels. "Harry, I know I'm not your mother, or any blood relation to you, but I would appreciate it if you could find some way to trust me." Harry bit his lip. "I might not have had a son, but my Nymphadora was more than handful and a sight more troublesome than even you appear to be, and I still loved her dearly."

Harry couldn't say anything to that but he looked around the garden as if noticing the numerous beds scattered throughout the small enclosure. "Can I help?" He asked.

"Thought you'd never ask." Andy stated matter of factly with a slight smirk on her face. She tossed him a gardening pick and shovel and he got to work.

* * *

><p>Draco tried to sleep but, regardless of the exhaustion settling in his bones and muscles, his mind whirled. Potter had done it. <em>Harry<em> had done it! The act itself, though carnal, was not what disgusted him. Nor was it the fact that it was with a vampiric Snape. No, it was the horror in which he was brought back in just after midnight. He had, thankfully, been cleaned of most of the blood but light rusty patches decorated his skin, as if Severus was afraid of scrubbing too hard or couldn't afford the time it would take…

The latter was the scariest and the most probable.

The entire house was awake due to Severus' urgency of attaining help and Draco could do nothing except stay away and _watch_ as Harry's life force became weaker. It seemed like forever and a day by the time the healer flooed in, waving his wand in spectacular sweeps over Harry's body, spelling blood replenisher into his system while simultaneously healing the bite wound on his neck, the light bruising on his wrists and starting the process in which to transfer Serverus' blood into Harry's body.

Half an hour later, the second wound, one cutting into a large artery, was discovered when Severus snapped his head up and hissed in dire excitement. Just in time, was that wound sealed and cleaned though unable to be fully healed due to the collection of already clotting cells.

Harry was stabilized, though comatose and Draco hovered, nearly as protectively as Severus himself. It was that moment, just before sunrise when Severus looked at him. He wordlessly gave up his right to Harry's body and attention, retracting those rather unveiling threats expressed only days earlier. The man rose and vanished into the house. With the _whoosh_ of the floo, Draco sagged in relief and sat in Severus' vacated chair, taking his turn to grab a hold of Harry's cold and nearly bloodless hand.

At that moment, Draco swore to himself that he would never allow anything else happen to Harry.

He broke that self made pledge within only _hours _of making it! Harry had opened those brilliantly green eyes and Draco fell in love with him. He opened that rosy mouth and Draco instantly wanted to hex the man!

So what if his comment had seemed slightly degrading? It was nothing to be embarrassed about, though Draco had to fight down his jealousy with tremendous effort. The salve was something that had to be reapplied every four to five hours until the pain was completely gone or scar tissue would form. The healer tended to the first application and Severus had done the second. It was going on hour six by the time Harry had woken up and Draco was only concerned…

He rolled over again, on his stomach and willed his erection away. Now was definitely not the time to be getting hard, thinking of Harry and application to that part of the body, while trying to sleep in the boy's bed!

Draco gritted his teeth, taking slow, deep breaths through his nose and thought of highly, unarousing things. Like his Aunt, then his mother, then his father, then Goyle, then Crabbe (fuck!) then of Hogwarts, then of Slytherin, then of Gryffindore, then of Potter—

Damn. Didn't work. He groaned, muffling the sound in the pillow which smelled of the shampoo Harry uses and of his skin, earthy, impassioned… Draco sat up and threw off the covers. He growled as he stalked to the connecting bathroom and stripped to his skin. Seriously, if the problem wouldn't go away by itself, he would just have to force it to leave.

He took his stance, splayed legs, in front of the toilet and griped his cock in a tight, unforgiving hold. He stroked roughly, stopping at the tip to roll the looser skin up and down, displaying and covering the bulbous head in an agonizing replica of the actual act itself, missing the imagined tightness over his entire length rather than just what his hand could produce. He returned to stroking, freely envisioning Harry bending over in front of him while he gripped his hips tight. His free hand found purchase on the smooth porcelain of the cistern while his hips snapped forward, pressing his cock through the circle of his fingers and palm.

Heat and a tingle rose up, deep in his stomach and his testicles tightened. With his head thrown back and an uttered cry falling from his swollen lips, Draco released, panting heavily and casting a guilty look at the bathroom door. Without the benefit of a silencing charm, Draco had tossed off in his Aunt's home, in the private bathroom belonging to his schoolyard rival and secret obsession. Merlin, he was hopeless.

Draco cleaned himself and wiped up any excess that didn't make it into the toilet bowl, he threw on his trousers and crawled back into bed, his mind now blissfully blank but the rather energized twitch of his muscles had him up and stalking into the kitchen. No rest of the wicked.

* * *

><p>Harry looked up as sound came from the house and glared as Malfoy stared at them through the window. He looked like a right prat, staring down his nose in distain as Andy and Harry worked in the garden. Harry felt his lips curl up in a sneer and Malfoy looked down and away. Harry's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. Well, that was different. Maybe he was just disgusted with Harry that he couldn't even exchange a proper glare.<p>

Harry shrugged, determined to ignore the blond wizard for as long as he could.


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: Hello hello! Here is a shiny new chapter! THANK YOU to all who read, alert, and favourite this story. I would not have the courage to go on without you! _

_A very GRAND THANKS to Pri-Chan 1210, Lientjuhh, Evie, and Milikalilly for their lovely reviews._

_On with the show..._

_Warnings: overabundance of wizardized muggle medical supplies, and Harry gets very handsy with himself... again!_

.XXII.

Day 25

June 26th

It turned out that he didn't have to ignore the other wizard for long. Malfoy had stayed over for the night again, and Andy transfigured the arm chair into a bed, complete with silk bedding and duvet. Harry suppressed some delight in the fact that Malfoy had given the thick covering a hard glare before tossing it off the single bed. The next morning, Harry had risen early enough to see Malfoy kiss Andy's cheek and ruffle Teddy's fine hair before transforming into an owl and winging out through the window. Andy explained that he was going to France to see his mother.

She didn't have to add that he was also leaving to get away from Harry.

Harry spent the morning wandering around the house, anxious and frustrated. Thankfully, he was no longer as sore since the salve made… everything infinitely more comfortable. However, darkness was fast approaching and Harry wasn't ready to face Snape as of yet. After a quick conversation with Andy, Harry was able to talk to her healer friend, an old wizard named Alan Metloche.

"All you have to do is insert the needle into this vein here." Alan stated, pointing out the thick blue vein running up the length of Harry's forearm. He then pulled up his wand, "and tap this little silver piece," he did, "and there you are! Painless blood extraction."

Harry watched, feeling a little faint, as the glass jar filled with blood with no visible indication of where it was coming from. He tapped the silver bit again when the jar was full. "That's it? Then I just cast a stasis charm?"

"That's it, my boy." Alan placed a friendly hand on Harry's shoulder. "I wish you the best of luck." He stood and adjusted his robes. "And remember, as a vampire, your friend will be able to ingest the blood from a second-hand source. Don't let him bully you into believing elsewise."

Harry walked the healer to the door, thanking the man again.

"It is my pleasure, Harry. Good to see you again, Andromeda. Please give my best to your husband and never fear to call upon me again! I always say that I retired too soon, but my Doris wouldn't hear the end of it!"

Alan vanished into the floo and Harry sighed in relief. "Andy," he said. "That man can talk!"

Andy just shook her head and returned to her magazine.

Harry grimaced and took up his jar, flooing over to Spinner's End and leaving the jar under warming and stasis charms on the table beside the old couch without a note. Snape would understand.

* * *

><p>Day 49<p>

July 13th

The loss of direct contact with Snape (Harry dropped the blood off when the sun was still high in the sky every two days) and Malfoy who was still in France, only helped to stabilize Harry's life. The weeks flew by and before he knew it, his eighteenth birthday was just around the corner. Ron and Hermione were coming home with Hermione's parents the next day and Harry promised to pick them up from the airport. Ron was bloody scared to be flying in a great metal contraption and Harry didn't blame him. He had never flown in a plane and those things looked fairly flimsy.

It was just him, Andy and Teddy now. Weekend dinners at the Weasley's with George, Percy, Molly and Arthur. The first time Harry had seen Percy after the war, he noticed that the other man was standoffish to everyone, especially Harry, but the awkward-wanting-to-be-anywhere-else feeling passed after the second meal together. George, in remembrance for Fred, made sure there was at least one big event every dinner no matter whether it consisted of a new version of Canary Custard or the roast duck changing into a large, rubber chicken whenever anyone went near it with a knife.

Life was… sad, but normal and Harry wasn't missing a thing. Nope, not one thing.

One night the house was quiet and wonderfully cool due to the freshening rain falling against the roof and windows. Harry, having enjoyed a long, warm shower, lay on his back, completely naked. A couple of times a week, ever since that disastrous night, Harry silenced and spell locked his room and settled in for a nice long, relaxing wank. Well, he was still a teenage boy who, for about a month, got off on a regular basis. Since Harry didn't want to do… that… with just anyone, he was left to his own devises.

A small squeeze bottle of lube rested at arm's length on the bed beside him. He stared at it. It's been three weeks, and while Harry had no problem using the lubricant to slick things up a bit, which was the normal use for such a tool, he had decided to explore different possibilities. Now, that innocent little bottle looked almost poisonous.

"Alright, Harry. It's not a big deal. You remember how good it felt when it was just his fingers, right? That's all it will be. No big deal, right?" Harry coached himself. He took a deep breath and wrapped his fingers around the bottle. He looked down his body and grimaced. "Okay, that's just not right." His cock, the piece of anatomy that Harry had some pride for, hung soft and limp over his thigh. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He didn't want to waste lube if he can't rise to the occasion.

Harry leaned back against his pillows and took slow deep breaths. He started to relax and tried to recall his last wetdream. It was, pathetically enough, drenched in blood. The star, however, was a man bathed in shadows. His physicality and what colouring Harry could make out did not match that of Malfoy or Snape… which was something new and, in Harry's opinion, progression towards the better.

He allowed his breathing to catch in his throat and speed up along with his pulse as he entered into a fantasy. The flowing blood gently formed into red walls and bedspread, casting a tinge on the shadows and the man standing in the corner.

Harry's hand rose to touch his neck, dragging his fingers down his throat and lightly tracing patters over his collarbone. The area broke out into goose pimples and he shivered, needing more… His hand went lower, brushing over the swell of his ribcage and circling the hard nubs of his nipples. He gasped, arching his neck as he pinched and pulled, enjoying the sharp tingles it sent like lightening to the tip of his penis and testicles.

It soon became too much and he traveled one hand even lower as his other tightened its hold on the small bottle of lubricant. His flicked the lid open just as his hand came in contact with the base of his cock. He slid his hand up and followed it with a thin line of clear, cold gel. He bit his lip but the groan escaped him as the cold substance came in contact with his hot, tight skin.

His pulse beat quicker and the blood flowed freely, filling up the organ while it pulsed with a heartbeat of its own. Harry's skin, the thin stuff over the ridges of his shoulders, the strips just below his wrist and under his eyes tightened as he breathed erratically, the pace of his hand picking up.

His pleasure mounted and his fear left completely behind, Harry removed his hand from his cock and shifted it down to his sack and the two small marbled gems hidden there. He squeezed the sack in its entirety before allowing his still slick fingers to roll the looser skin around each separate ball. He whined at his own private torture, loving the delicious sensations shooting through him at different intervals.

Harry rolled his head to the side as he lifted his other hand and poured a generous pool of lubricant into the hollow of his stomach. He set the bottle to the side once more and rose up on his elbow, dragging the hand busy at work upwards to trail through the pool. He tucked his hips into the bed a little more, allowing his lower back to be flush with the bed and his pelvis tilted up.

Dragging those fingers back down, Harry felt the tingles of fear in the back of his mind. He breathed deeply, gently sliding his fingertips up his cock and rolling the foreskin around the base of the mushroom head, the fear disappearing as his blunt nail drug briefly into the slit at the very tip, adding a thinner, slightly less silky texture to his lubricated fingers.

Harry bit his lip and dived, his hand dropping from his cock to right below his balls. Scooting up a bit more, Harry spread his feet and bent his legs, lifting up ever so slightly as he ran a moistened hand up the cleft of his buttocks. He grazed his entrance but carried on up until his hand met the juncture of his body and the bed. He slid his hand back down, putting more pressure over his hole as he collapsed back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, his other hand coming down to stroke his cock. He manoeuvred lower, body bent at what would be an uncomfortable angle if the flare and ebb of pleasure wasn't at the center of his focus, and circled his fingertip around the crinkled skin in a parody of what he did to his nipple only minutes before. His stopped with his finger directly over the skin and clenched his lower muscles, feeling the skin wink. He pressed on it, hard and gasped as his body swallowed the digit to the first knuckle.

Harry gasped and froze at the invasion. He marvelled at how he twitched and throbbed around the very tip on his finger. The groan unsettled him, forcing the digit in just a little further and he gasped, pushing in smoothly and suddenly, allowing his body to swallow his finger to the joint. He wiggled it, surprised at the tightness and heat surrounding him. Just imagining what it would be like to have a cock in such tight, gripping heat! Harry pulled out, pushed in and crooked his finger, knowing almost on instinct what he searched for. He wanted that… that _spot_ Snape only grazed when he had his fingers up his arse.

He knew it was his prostate gland, a bundle of nerves which caused more problems in men than it did pleasure- that was from a book in the public library that he looked through when he was going through what he generously called, 'a Hermione phase.' Knowing what it was called, however, did not make it any easier to reach. He barely nicked it with one short nail before groaning in frustration, pulling his finger out and turning over onto his knees, crouching in a splayed legged pose which caused his inner thigh muscles to ache. He returned two fingers to his hole and his other fist wrapped around his cock tightly, fisting it slowly up and down. A deep breath and Harry penetrated his body, stretching himself unbelievably wide and bringing tears of pain to his eyes. He refused to give up.

Keeping his pace steady on his slightly wilted cock, Harry stimulated himself enough to feel the familiar draw deep in his balls. He moved his fingers again, this time knowing where to reach, pressing up and moaning in delight as he reached it this time without issue.

His hands moved faster, pulling and thrusting simultaneously, his hips humping down into the bed and his hand and up into his fist, not quite knowing what to do to obtain optimal pleasure. Harry twisted harshly on his cock, burying his battered fingers into his hole and flicking them roughly against that sensitive cluster.

The faint roaring in his ears over powered him and he saw white moments before he went limp, collapsing onto his mattress with his legs sprawled awkwardly under him. He pulled his fingers out of him with a wince, promising to use more lubricant next time.

"Oh fuck." He breathed into the sudden, deafening silence. "I am absolutely, terribly screwed."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Yes, yes you will be ;)_

_So, this can be ignored, but I have a question completely unrelated to this story (or any other story for that matter). There is a scene in my mind: A thousand angels pierced through with spears, wings trailing on the ground of a battle field. Does anyone happen to know what movie/television show this scene is from?_

_I will owe you the soul of my first born if you can answer that... or just a really smutty scene between our three favourite characters :o_


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: So, you know that time when everything is going well and you're waiting for that shoe to drop? Yep- still waiting!_

_Thank you all for your alerts and favourite. It amazes me how many each chapter brings in. You guys are awesome! Thank you to Lientjuhh, nika, and someone under the title bb (Honestly? Eric the vampire? Alrighty then...) for your reviews. _

_Byzantea: __Oh! You are awesome! I saw that movie when I was nine or ten and there are specific scenes in there that have haunted me for years. I started thinking about it again with everything that has happened in Supernatural…. But that is the movie. Thank you so much. Now I owe you my first born... will you settle for another chapter instead? ;) I promise the scene will, er… come:D All in good time. _

Warnings: Short chapter ahead- but we see the beginning of something exciting! Dun Dun Dun! Some bed stealing as well.

.XXIII.

Day 50

July 14th

"Hermione! Ron!" Harry yelled as his two friends leapt at him, wrapping their arms around his neck. "OI! Watch where you're pulling." Harry untangled one hand to gently extract Hermione's fingers where they became locked in his messy hair. She just laughed.

"Oh Harry! It was wonderful. And look!" She held up the hand that had gotten caught in Harry's hair and showed him a delicate, gold band with a protruding water-blue stone. "We're getting married!"

Harry felt his jaw drop and he looked at Ron who still had one arm around Harry's shoulders. His face was pale behind the sunburn and he visibly gulped.

"Uh mate?" Ron questioned softly and Harry shook his head, realizing that he was staring.

He broke out in a wide grin. "Congratulations!" he swept Ron into a bone crushing hug. He turned to Hermione next and hugged her as well, kissing her cheek affectionately. "When are you doing it?"

Ron blushed now, grinned with pleasure as he secured his arm around Hermione and pulled her gently away from Harry. "Not for a year at least. 'Mione made me promise we would finish school first."

Harry tried to control the twinge of hurt he felt when Ron separated them. He had never felt like a third wheel before, even when they were all living under the same roof. "Oh that's good right? I claim best man, regardless!"

Ron laughed. "You thought you had a choice?"

Hermione slapped at him. "Hush, Ron. Here, Harry. Take this." Hermione thrust her carryon luggage into his arms and he nearly fell over from the weight of it.

"God, Hermione! What's in here?" His remark graced with a glare but was otherwise ignored.

"Mom and dad are here somewhere…" She rose up on her toes and saw them talking to an elderly Australian couple. She sighed. "I swear, I erase their memories for less than a year and all of a sudden, they are Mr. and Mrs. Popular!" She stormed off to go pull them away from their new friends.

Harry just shook his head and snorted. He turned to Ron. "Any other baggage?" he asked.

Ron grimaced, and shifted his grip on his own bags. "'Course not. You know 'Mione. She shrunk everything."

"And she's finally allowing you to call her ''Mione' now, eh?"

Ron grinned. "After proposing while cave hiking in New Zealand, she's denied me very little." He added a saucy wink to the last and Harry gagged.

"Ugh, no thank you." Harry shuddered. "I did not need to know that."

Ron laughed and pounded Harry on the back, making him stumble. "But it was brilliant mate! I thought Egypt was a sight to see, but Australia was… was more than I expected!"

"And that had nothing at all to do with the fact that you were alone with the girl you love for weeks and weeks?" Harry was pleased when Ron's sunburned face went even redder.

Before Ron could retort, Hermione came back with her parents in tow. "We promised Molly that we would be right over. Harry? You are coming, right? Molly said you would."

He sighed and huffed in defeat, trying to keep the smile from his face. "Yeah, I suppose I should. Knowing Molly, she would hold it against me for the rest of my life!"

* * *

><p>Dinner flew by without a hitch. The engagement was the talk of the table once Hermione showed off her ring, apparently made from some stone only found on the coast of the southern continent. Not as expensive or pure as a diamond but Hermione claimed that she was impartial to diamonds, appreciating her ring for both its beauty and the memory of where they were when Ron had proposed.<p>

Harry joined in the conversation when asked but otherwise stayed silent, contented to just listen to his friends speak avidly to their four parents. That was until Hermione turned to him.

"I can't believe you gave the interview, Harry!" She gestured wildly to the corner were the luggage was stacked. "We received it a few days after it was published of course, but Skeeter must have loved you to be that honest."

Harry shrugged. "At least she stuck to the story. It was probably wild enough without her adding extra stuff to it." He chuckled. "You should have seen her face when I mentioned the dragon. I actually think she had an orga... coronary attack..." Harry glanced guiltily at Molly and Jane but both seemed not to notice.

Ron took a swig from his glass. "I noticed you didn't mention much about the Forest of Dean, though."

He shrugged again, feeling slightly uncomfortable with that reminder. "Sometimes it's better if people don't know all. Especially with the you-know-whats."

Hermione, Ron and Harry all fell quiet. Then, as one, they shuttered. It was better that the public doesn't know such things are possible. There is no telling what people would do to achieve eternal life.

Arthur cleared his throat and raised his glass. "To Harry's freedom! May he be relieved from owl post and owl droppings!"

The table was filled with laughs and cheers of "Here, here!" and one very expletive "Arthur!" from Molly.

The conversation lightened considerably and Harry was allowed to fade back into the background with a smile on his face.

* * *

><p>It was rather late, later than he liked when returning to Andy's home. He flooed into the dark house, feeling guilty at how quiet and still everything was. Andy must be in bed, he thought, making his way to the kitchen and the small hall leading to his bedroom. He entered his room and first locked and silenced his door before turning on the light. He tossed a bag of souvenirs that Ron and Hermione picked up for him onto the bed and turned to grab a quick shower in his bathroom.<p>

The grunt and muffled yell had him spinning back to face his bed and the before unnoticed lump under the covers.

"Don't move!" Harry commanded, holding his wand steady at the figure.

"I wasn't planning to, you prat!" the lump drawled, sitting up and allowing the blankets to fall. Messy blond hair and grey eyes stared into his.

"Malfoy! What the hell are you doing in my bed!" Harry demanded, stalking forward and ripping the blankets off the blond haired bastard. Pale pink skin shone from the darker sheets and Harry yelped, spinning away. "You're naked! Naked in my bed!"

"What a way to state the obvious, Potter!" Malfoy snapped. There was a rustle of fabric and Harry turned his head slowly, peaking over his shoulder. Malfoy was covered completely, the blankets (_Harry's_ blankets) being pulled up to his chin. It was then that Harry also noticed clothes strewn around his room that definitely didn't belong to him.

"Why are you naked in my bed, Malfoy?" the body shifted slightly and Malfoy grimaced.

"I'm waiting for you to come home and ravish me!" Malfoy retorted, squirming a bit more.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny." Harry raised his wand. "I won't ask you aga- what's wrong with you? Why are you moving so much?"

"None of your damn business." Malfoy bit his lip hard, but not quick enough to stem the moan than escaped.

"What the—" Harry eyes grew wide and his face burst into blotches of red. "Are you… _wanking? _In_ my bed!_ Naked!"

That was when the thin whining sound made itself known to Harry's ears. It was almost like an insect… oh dear gods!

Harry spun on his heel and left the room, thinking of ways to scrub strangely appealing thoughts from his brain.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: *Sheepishly waving* Hello, it has been a ridiculously long time, I know. I have been under an incredible amount of stress, this past month. However, the good news is that I now have a BA. That is a $20,000 piece of paper. How about that for saving the environment!

Thank you so much for your reviews. They keep me strong!

Warnings: Mentions of toys, overprotective mothers and some blood talk! Enjoy.

.XXIV.

Day 51

July 15th

"Oh dear, Harry, I'm sorry." Harry felt his hand grabbed by little fingers and blinked his eyes sleepily. He sat up when said fingers were encased in a small mouth and chewed on by determined gums.

"Ow, Teddy!" Harry looked at his small sitting beside the couch on the floor. He was happily gnawing on the hanging limb. Harry carefully pulled his hand away from the baby who pouted momentarily then smiled when Andy came to pick him up and give him a bottle. "G'morning Andy." He said groggily, sitting up and pulling the transfigured blanket round his shoulders.

She shook her head and sat beside him. "I thought you would stay at the Weasley's tonight. You said…"

"Ron and Hermione are getting married." Harry interrupted. "I stayed for most of the time but her parents were spending the night and the only room left was Ginny's… I figured I might as well come home."

Harry ran a hand threw his hair and the full effect of the encounter came rushing back. He blushed. "Does he do that often?" Harry asked, indicating the direction of his room with a thumb.

Andy sighed. "He just came back late yesterday afternoon. I would normally have him sleep in the living room but since yours was free..." She looked down at Teddy for a moment. "'Cissy bunked with me."

"Narcissa Malfoy?" Harry asked in surprise. "But, I thought she didn't want anything to do with you or Teddy!"

"Yes, well I can only assume France didn't agree with her."

"Andy—"

"There really is no reason to baby me, Harry. I'm a grown woman and I know my sister better than you'd think." She said in the tone filled with finality and which Harry knew better than to argue with.

Harry dozed on the couch off and on until almost eight o'clock when a slight crash came from up the stairs.

"Andy? Where did you say the towels were, I can't seem to find- oh goodness me! Mr. Potter! What are you doing sleeping on the couch?" Harry groaned and looked up, seeing Mrs. Malfoy standing over him with a stern expression and hands on her hips.

He burrowed deeper into his blanket and mutter, "I found a pest in my bed last night."

"I'm no such thing Potter. How could you say something so absurd?" Malfoy entered the living room, freshened and clean. "Good morning, Mother." Harry watched as Malfoy tripped over to his mother and kissed her cheek. He couldn't believe he would even touch her after what he did last night!

"I hope you sterilized my sheets, Malfoy." Harry stood, pulling the blanket tightly about him. He looked at Mrs. Malfoy. "The towels are kept in the cupboard under the sink in the bathroom."

Harry nodded as she thanked him and bustled off to get herself ready for the day and Harry, ignoring Malfoy, swept off to his room, taking his time to wash and dress himself.

* * *

><p>The first thing Harry did when he was dressed was ransack his room. He looked everywhere for that little toy he just <em>knew<em> Malfoy was using last night but could find it to no avail. His careful and (what he thought was) strategic searching unveiled nothing. Just as he decided to confront Malfoy about it, he stubbed his toe against the side of the bed and tripped, falling to the floor and sprawling out with his head nearly under it.

"Oh bloody…" he petered off on his cursing, staring at the bed springs. "Oh my God!" He whispered. Suddenly raising his voice, he yelled, "Malfoy! Get your lily-white arse in here!"

Mere seconds later his door was flung open then shut as Malfoy stormed in. "My mother is out there—" he cut off his words with a choke, staring at the array Harry had before him.

There were four different toys and not the kind that Teddy played with either. These _toys_ were for one single purpose and Harry knew exactly what that purpose was.

Harry watched with glee as Malfoy's cheeks pinked and he deliberately picked up a thin long cylinder. He twisted the base and watched it go _buzz_. "Look what I found." Harry tried to keep the lust from his eyes as the thing vibrated in his hand. It was sooo much longer than his fingers!

He switched it off and set it down, picking up another. "Now, I know what _that_ is for, and I think I can guess what this is for…" Harry held up what looked like a jelly filled stress bag but with a hole running all the way through. He put it down and picked up a third. "And this… well, it looks like it, uh, _prevents_ pleasure." He stretched the rubber cock ring and accidently released, sending it flying.

With a hiss, Malfoy dived after it, then gathered up the other toys and hiding them behind his back. "What do you think you're doing!" he spat out quietly.

With a shrug, Harry held up the last and final _toy_. It was a rather long string knotted with various sized beads. "For the life of me, I can't figure out this one…"

Malfoy took a dive for them but Harry lifted them out of the way, letting Malfoy crash on top of him. Oh!

"Potter." Malfoy growled. "I can make life _very_ unpleasant for you." His groin pressed firmly down on Harry's though he didn't seem to notice as he reached for the beads in Harry's hand.

Harry noticed. Harry noticed and his (_traitorous!_) body reacted to that notice. As Malfoy reached further, his hips pressed down more firmly and Harry couldn't control the sudden buck.

Malfoy froze and looked down, his nose touching Harry's. Harry saw him gulp and Harry mimicked him, swallowing the sudden build up of saliva in his mouth.

"Uh… Potter?" Malfoy asked.

Harry took in a shuttering breath. "Yeah, Malfoy?"

"I… uh, your, ah, you're hard." He shifted self consciously and Harry felt something dig into his hip.

"So are you…" Harry felt the need to point out.

There was a beat of silence, both boys staring at the other. Then—

"Andy?" a voice ridiculously close by said. "Anything you want to tell me about my son and Harry Potter?"

Malfoy leapt off Harry and turned around, dropping the vibrator and the masturbating bag on the ground, in front of him and his mother.

Harry looked up from his position, looked down the length of his body and groaned, wishing he hadn't worn such fitting jeans…

"Mother!" Malfoy sputtered, inelegantly kicking the _toys_ backwards, towards Harry who promptly pushed them under his bed. The anal beads still hanging from his hand.

"What is it, 'Cissy? Oh!" Andy came to stand beside her sister and her eyes were glued to Harry and Malfoy's rumpled clothing and the beaded string clenched tightly in Harry's fist. She sighed. "Harry dear, those are no good. The string could snap suddenly and then what do you do? You're better off with a silicone set…"

Harry frowned. "Wha—" he started.

"Put down the beads, Potter! For Salazar's sake!"

Harry looked at his hand and blushed, hiding them behind his back.

Narcissa snickered into her hand, an action which would look childish on anyone else, seemed elegant and refined on her. "Well, Andy. Do you think these boys truly know what they're doing? Should we buy instruction manuals for them?"

"Mother!" Malfoy yelled, indignant, though Harry was pleased to see his face progressed past the colour pink and was now a deep red. "It wasn't _anything_ like that, I swear!"

She shrugged, unconcerned. "Just be glad your father isn't here to see this. I for one couldn't care, either way."

"_What!_" Andy and Harry winced at the high toned whine that emitted out of Malfoy's mouth.

Andy sighed. "It is much too early for this type of drama. Breakfast is ready." She left the room, and, after a stern glance in Harry's direction, Narcissa followed.

The door was 'conveniently' left open but Harry couldn't care. He sank down boneless on to his bed and buried his face in his upraised palms. "I can't believe that just happened! They think… they think that…!"

"I know, Potter." Malfoy said snidely then he blinked in surprise. "I think my mother just gave me permission to be gay." Harry looked up when the blond chuckled. "I can't believe that she actually approves! And Aunt Andromeda… I never would have imagined those words coming from her mouth! You should have seen your face!" Malfoy chuckled with glee and Harry felt the need to back away from the insane look dominating the blond's features.

Malfoy smoothed out his sweater (Harry belatedly noticed that he wasn't wearing robes, but muggle clothing) and fixed his hair. He pranced out of the room. "Hurry up, Potter, before the bacon gets cold!"

Harry looked up and stood, realizing that the beads were still hanging from his hand. He dropped them in disgust and kicked them under the bed, still not sure what, exactly, they are.

* * *

><p>"What are your intentions with my son?"<p>

The voice made Harry jump and he looked over his shoulder at Narcissa. She was leaning against his door jam with her arms folded over her chest. It was just about the beginning of the evening and only two hours to sunset and he was preparing the jar for Snape. The needle he used slipped and stabbed him in the arm. "Ow!"

He looked as the wound in his arm leaked blood sluggishly and Harry winced. A pale hand crossed his vision and took the needle in hand, steadily pressing it properly into a vein. The jar began to fill instantly.

"Now," Narcissa said after handing Harry a white cloth to stem the bleeding from the false wound. "What are your intentions?"

Harry looked up at her then away. He muttered lowly under his breath but the sound of a throat clearing made him speak louder. "I have no intentions, alright? He's a pain in my a- rear and –"

"There are proper preparation techniques that can diminish the pain significantly," was her mild reply.

Harry chocked and almost knocked the needle free again. How could she just stand there and say _those_ things!

She scoffed at his obvious reaction. "There is no reason to be so surprised, Mr. Potter. Even I, as a mother who is past her prime, can see the attraction between you two."

Attraction? What on _earth_! "Attraction?" Harry asked. "We hate each other!"

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Your fighting is nothing more than suppressed sexual desire between two individuals who experience extreme levels of emotion." Harry blinked dully. "Passion! Mr. Potter, passion!"

"But… I—"

"Your jar is full." Harry turned to look at the jar and swiftly tapped the needle with his wand, stemming the flow.

Narcissa was halfway across the room when she turned back. "If you need proof, Mr Potter, kiss Draco next time you are nose to nose with him and see what happens."

She left Harry sputtering behind her.

* * *

><p>Harry was a chicken, he decided hours later when he hid up in Malfoy's vampire-proof room. He had come over to drop off the jar of blood as usual when the thought of returning to Andy's with Narcissa's knowing looks and Malfoy's hot body- uh, annoying face staring at him and Andy's random and well informed comments about <em>silicone<em> made him pause. He didn't want to see Snape, but it had been a month and the recent encounters with Malfoy had unsettled Harry enough to put the incident with Snape behind him…

That changed the moment Snape came through the door and stared hungrily at Harry. Harry was holding the jar of fresh blood and he reacted quickly to that raw look of need upon Snape's face.

"Catch!" Harry yelled, tossing the jar, underhand, towards Snape. Even before the glass cleared his fingers, Harry bolted for the stairs, wrenching open the bookshelf and up the stairs. He heard Snape reach out and try and catch him but he was safe within the confines of the garlic scented stairwell and moment later, the talisman protected room.

Harry idled on Malfoy's bed, realizing why the blond took every opportunity to sleep in Harry's bed if the large spring which poked up right in the center was any indication. He finally sighed and vanished the spring, groaning in annoyance when he sunk, no longer supported right in the middle.

"I am,,, sorry." Harry sat upright, staring at the door, the one which was _warded against_ the vampire standing in its doorway.

"How the hell did you get in?" Harry demanded, leaping off the bed.

Snape gave him a crooked toothed smile. It looked out of place and wrong on his face. "You gave me more than usual. I haven't felt this… human in a while."

"Right." Harry moved to brush past Snape but a hand descended on his shoulder.

"Harry?"

He froze, hearing for the first time in his life, his first name spoken without malice in that silky smooth tone. "What?" he whispered, not turning around to look. Not daring to look.

"You did not deserve what happened." This was spoken quietly, nearly inaudibly. "It was never my intention to take our relationship to that level."

"I asked for it." Harry muttered, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"Yes." Snape agreed. Harry whipped up his head to stare at Snape, not thinking that he would agree with him. "However, I should not have taken advantage of your offer."

"Snape—"

"Harry," Snape continued in that same, soft voice. "When a vampire loses his mind to the blood lust, he functions purely on instinct. I wasn't lost to blood lust, yet I brutalized you regardless of that fact." He moved to leave and it was Harry's turn to snag his sleeve.

"I orgasm to blood!" Harry yelled, then blushed when his words came back to resound in his ears.

Snape looked over his shoulder and raised an eye brow. Harry continued, gathering courage from the interest displayed on that face.

"I need to think about blood to get off. I think about you biting me, sucking the blood from my neck. I thought I knew what I wanted that night and you gave me exactly what I imagined… but I wasn't prepared!" Snape looked away, frowning but Harry pushed on in a rush. "I asked, but I didn't know what I was asking for! I might never ask for that again, or I might but not for a long time. Just, don't put this on yourself! You only did what I asked and I thank you for that!"

"You thank me?" Snape questioned smoothly. "You thank me for ripping open your body for my pleasure? For giving you scars which will never heal?" Harry thought of the ragged mark at the juncture of his inner thigh. "You thank me for nearly draining you of blood? Damaging your rectum so much that you probably had to wait days to have a comfortable bowel movement?"

Snape turned and swept Harry up into his arms, wrapping rough cotton robe sleeve around Harry and holding him gently, as if he were made from spun glass. "You thank me for nearly robbing you of your life, the life that I've spent so many years trying to protect? Never thank me for any of that. Hate me, blame me, curse me. But do not thank me."

Harry was released so suddenly that his world spun and he stumbled, not seeing as Snape left. Only hearing the front door slam as the vampire went out into the night.

Harry sank down on the bed, not knowing what to do. He lay back, thinking and still wanting to thank the man for everything that he did for Harry but knowing, after tonight, that Snape would no longer accept any words of gratitude. His guilt was a deep and black as before. Harry relaxed to thoughts of Snape and how, in a perfect world, Snape could actually be happy. He didn't realize sleep had claimed him until he woke; the sun low on the horizon but shining with a new light nonetheless.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Another chapter just for you, my friends. A very big thank you to BloodyRose90, Ilap, and Lientjuhh for your reviews. Also, to everyone who alerted and favourited this story! You really are the reason I continue to update. Enjoy!

Warnings: Shortish Chapter. More teasing and internal debating with a side of self-pity. And remember that strange howler from a few chapters past? Yeah, ye be warned!

.XXV.

Day 52

July 16th

Draco sat on the floor, rolling a ball toward Teddy and watching in veiled amusement as the baby tried to get the colourful toy but was unable to reach it. His mother and aunt were in the garden, providing a blissful reprieve for Draco from the nagging.

At first, Draco had been shocked to hear that his mother wanted to… 'play in the dirt' as she put it, but now he realized just how little he actually knows about his mother. Her comments the day before were only the tip of the iceberg. He had been getting subtle hints ever since she walked in on him and Har- _Potter _ fighting. It was mortifying, but nothing was going to happen. Right? Right!

Wrong! Draco was tempted to smash his head against something hard and blunt if only it would put him out of his misery. He was undeniably attracted to the man. Draco had, even after promising his aunt to leave Harry's bedroom alone, snuck in when the two woman and baby went to sleep and had a good long wank in that heavenly bed. He even made use of a few of his Items of Pleasure. Draco was certain that his obsession was reaching disastrous proportions when the thought of Harry sleeping in the bed he had just used made him hard and aching. It was all for naught, however. Harry wasn't attracted to Draco. In fact, if Harry's night long absence was any indication, Draco was sure that Harry wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing at all.

His mother walked in the room, holding a mug filled with the smell of earthy tea. She sat on the couch and watched as her son played with Teddy. "I can't believe how big he is." She gushed, sighing in longing. "If I knew how pretty Nymphadora's child would be, I would have never listened to my parents and cut all ties with Andy."

"Mother?" Draco questioned. Narcissa looked up from Teddy and met his eyes. "What are you doing here? Why did you insist on coming back?"

Narcissa smiled, displaying one, nearly hidden dimple right on the corner of her mouth. It was, tooth for tooth, Draco's smile and one of the only features he inherited solely from his mother, not including the colour and texture of his hair. He swiped the few strands which escaped behind his ear and reached for the ball again.

"I was tired of seeing you mope around the house, speaking only of the people here, in this house rather than wanting to spend time with me." Narcissa shrugged and eyed Draco's gapping mouth. "But it seems as if you mope here just as much."

"I don't understand." Draco admitted quietly. At least, he didn't _want_ to understand.

"Of course you do, darling. Come to auntie 'Cissy, you dear boy." Narcissa cooed, bending over to pick up Teddy and settle him in her lap on the couch. She drew one leg under her and the pose struck Draco as oddly informal and not mother-like in the least. She turned her clear blue eyes on Draco again. "It is, of course, all to do with Harry Potter."

He closed his eyes tight, turning his head away and not denying anything. He had suspected that she knew, especially from her lack of reaction yesterday morning from finding the two boys in which could have been a compromising position.

"Your father will not be released for a very long time, if he is ever released. We no longer have the name of Malfoy to uphold." Narcissa spoke, directly addressing his deepest worries that he was too afraid to even acknowledge. She spread one hand wide. "This is the only connection I have to the Black heritage and she has been removed for many, many years. We have nothing but our lives, Draco. Allow us to live as we see fit."

Draco shuddered. It had been so long since he dropped the mask that kept him safe that he didn't even know who he could be anymore. Was he just a Malfoy? He will always be to Har-Potter. He never will just be Draco, not unless…

He stood and headed towards the floo.

"Draco? Where are you going?" his mother questioned from behind.

"I have some apologising to do." He said, picking up the powder and flooing away. He didn't see the smile that graced his mother's face as she cuddled even closer to her great-nephew.

* * *

><p>Wands came up and pointed at him, halting his approach. "Granger." Draco said, nodding his head in greeting. "Weasley." He held up his hands to show that he carried not a wand or anything that could harm them. "Welcome back."<p>

The wands dropped and Weasley, looking rather uncomfortable, demanded, "What are you doing here?"

"Ron! Be nice." Granger hissed. She turned to Draco. "Thank you Malfoy. What brings you here?"

Draco rolled his eyes at the diplomacy and said, "I'm looking for Potter. I thought he might have stayed here last night."

Granger frowned and shook her head. "We haven't seen him at all yesterday…" she trailed off.

"Oh Draco!" He turned to look at Molly and was immediately swept up in a warm hug. "You're just in time for some lunch. Come join us!"

Draco couldn't resist. He looked over to the red faced, chocking Weasel and grinned, winking over Molly's shoulder. Before the boy could start firing curses, Draco was forcefully led into the kitchen where Arthur, Percy and George were seated.

"Good morning, Draco." Arthur said mildly while Percy ignored him. George did nothing except watch carefully where Draco decided to sit down, making the blond to sit right beside Molly's usual spot for protection.

"Good morning Arthur. Did you get the plugs I sent you?"

"Oh yes! I had no idea there were different kinds! And each country has a different shape?" The man asked eagerly but Draco had to shrug. He honestly had no idea. It might just be France and England that has different muggle plugs or maybe that junk store was selling something mislabelled.

"What the hell is going on here?" the Weasel demanded, storming in to the kitchen just in time to witness the friendly atmosphere between his family and a Malfoy.

"Language!" Molly snapped. "I will not have that type of behaviour in my house Ronald Billus Weasley!

"But mom—"

"No buts! Draco is welcome here any time he wants to come, isn't that right dear?" She looked fondly at Draco and Draco had to grin back. He never thought that he would develop a weak spot for Weasleys of all people.

"Are you sure, Molly? You remember what he did in the war." It was Granger who asked quietly, peering at the woman through wide eyes.

Molly reached over and patted her hand. "He came to visit us a few times while you were away in Australia. He's a dear boy and nothing at all like his father. I suspect that his personality comes from those rare individuals in the Black family such as Andromeda Tonks and Sirius Black."

"And my mother." Draco couldn't help but say. "She's the one who wanted to leave France and stay with my aunt."

Granger bit her lip and Draco could practically see the wheels turning in that big brain of hers. "I suppose." She said reluctantly. Draco graced her with a dazzling smile.

Weasel groaned as if in pain. "Oh grow up, Ron." Granger snapped. "You were the first one to accept him when he first came to dinner! Over Harry's homosexuality, no less!"

Weasel grimaced. "But that was funny!" he whined.

"It won't be funny when Harry and Draco start shagging like rabbits."

Draco chocked on his forkful of pancakes and Weasel sputtered so much, droplets of juice landed in Granger's hair. "_What_?" Draco gasped when his airway was cleared, staring at George who was sitting there, as if completely innocent.

"I ran into Andy and your mum in Diagon Alley. I mentioned that we had a wedding coming up and Narcissa kindly suggested the possibility of making it a double."

Draco groaned. "I am going to kill my mother!"

Molly closed an arm around his shoulders. "Now, now. Don't talk nonsense, dear. Have more bacon."

Arthur cleared his throat. "You know, that might not be a bad idea. It saves on invitations if we can just put all the information onto one, and the yard is big enough, even for a Malfoy."

The table broke out into snickers except for Draco, who wanted to fall through the floor and Weasley, who actually fainted, face planted on his plate of eggs.

Even Granger let out a very mud- _muggleborn_ snort into her breakfast.

The arm wrapped around his shoulders, squeezed once and he looked at Molly, remembering why he put himself through these little humiliations. Molly glanced at him through the corner of her eye and, quicker than thought, _winked_ at Draco even as she continued chuckling as Granger tried to get Weasley to wake once more. Draco shifted and let a faint smile cross his lips, face still heated but warmer and more comforting.

* * *

><p>The owl landed on Harry's knee, blinking adoringly up at him with big amber eyes. It was such a nice creature, just sitting there, letting him pet it just a little, still holding that big red envelope in its beak. He still hadn't left Spinner's End and he wasn't sure if he was ever going to leave. Everything seems to be happening so quickly, all at once and not giving him a proper chance to calm down and soak in the information.<p>

First, and the most disturbing, was that Ron and Hermione were going to leave him. In a month, only a month, they would be back in school (without Harry) and then in a year (maybe a touch more) they would be married, leaving Harry alone for good.

Second, he found Malfoy naked and wanking in his bed (how the hell is he supposed to get a good night sleep in that same bed after that. He's going to have to rub his skin raw!) which played havoc on his nerves and had no idea how to handle this growing attract- obsessi- reluctantly intrigue- thing. Good lord! He didn't even have a word that he could call it!

Third was, of course, the coming of Narcissa Malfoy. If she ends up living with Andy, Harry's original plan of staying with the grieving woman was unnecessary. Having her sister there will do Andy some good and hopefully they can overcome all their differences without the pressure from family.

Snape was the final reason. He made it clear that he didn't want to drink directly from Harry anymore. He will accept blood given to him in jars, making it unnecessary for Harry to be anywhere near the vampire. Harry scoffed. Just because Snape was convinced that he raped Harry (which wasn't true, damnit!), he refused to have any contact further than what happened last night.

Harry sighed forlornly and stroked the bird's head. With the exception of Malfoy, a situation too complex and _weird_ to even contemplate for long, no one needed him anymore. No one needed Harry for anything, let alone his company.

"Thanks boy- or are you a girl?- but I can take that letter now. I'll live through it." Harry opened his hand, palm up and the owl blinked slowly before ducking her- his?- head and dropping the letter. It flew up and landed on the top of a bookshelf, watching as Harry took a deep breath and opened the flap.

_I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE, POTTER. I WILL COME FOR YOU SOON AND YOU WILL RECIEVE YOUR DUE. PROMISES ARE THE ONE THING I CAN KEEP. _

The letter fizzed and _exploded_, sending Harry sprawling to the ground. Smoke plumed up, covering every corner of the room and Harry, coughing and wheezing, was unable to see the door. The ringing in his ears confused him and he lost his orientation of which way was up, unable to purchase proper footing on the heaving floor.

Soft tips brushed his face and talons dug into his shift, pulling tightly. Wobbling on his feet, Harry blindly followed the tight pull of his shirt and the constant batter of feathers against his face. He ran into solid wood and felt instinctively for the knob, finding and twisting it, Harry stumbled out onto the broken porch, followed by billowing clouds of toxic smoke.

He came to a haltering stop on a grassy plane where he fell, collapsing in on himself and lying there.

He rolled over, eyes stinging and nose and throat burning, and saw the owl peering down at him from a very low branch, scant inches above his face. It opened its beak but Harry frowned, unable to make out a sound.

He saw rosy lights flashing, flickering eerily against the white mushrooming smoky clouds and getting lost in the late morning sun. Harry's head pounded and swam as the ground lunged under him and everything went black.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Hello! Here is another chapter! I hope you enjoy it. :D

Big thank yous to everyone who reviewed, alerted and favorited this story. So thank you to **The Green Eyes** and **BloodyRose90**. You are sweet. **Paige Taylor**: I love getting reviews. I like it when people let me know how the story is working or not working and I appreciate every comment, even the less than coherent ones. Thank you for coming to my defense, saying people should review more. Hint hint. But not to worry, I won't withhold chapters because I want more reviews. This story would continue even if I didn't get any because I simply like writing and I know people are reading ;)

Warnings: Snape is annoyed, Ron is picking fights and Hermione is a know-it-all... but then, so is Andy.

.XXVI.

"_Where is he?"_

The peaceful family sitting down to a very late dinner started at the billowing entrance of an incredibly irate vampire.

Andy, red eyed and blotchy face, looked up as Severus swooped in from the door. She shook her head and winced as Severus released a snarl. "We don't know, Severus, but please keep your voice down. Teddy just settled to sleep."

Severus ignored her comment and turned to Draco who seemed low and completely lost. "Well then, when was the last time you saw him?" The anger rolled off the vampire in droves.

Draco struggled, ignoring the guilt he felt when he thought about his initial search for the other boy. He was delayed by Molly at the Burrow until after lunch when he finally was able to excuse himself. He had just flooed in to the living room at Spinner's End when two burly men in uniform grabbed him by the arms and wrestled him outside. For hours he was detained, and questioned on why there was a gasbomb released at that address and if it was a terrorist attack. They fired question after question at him as if they were spells and Draco was unable to understand most of them. They were talking about something to do with chemical agents and explosives and terrorist movements. They ransacked the entire upper floor of the building and asking him about the occult and whether he was an avid practitioner. Needless to say, Draco was confused.

The moment they left Draco alone, with an open window, he was gone, shifting not without effort and winging quickly back to Andy's. He didn't even get a chance to ask those men about Harry.

"Last night." Draco whispered. "He went to bring you the blood and didn't come back again."

Severus growled and then groaned, pressing his fingers tightly against the bridge of his nose. "I spoke to him last night." He said gratingly. "And he was in the house this morning, I knew that much." Severus sank down in the only extra seat, a tall stool that was set at the table for Harry. "When I woke this evening, only an hour ago, I was aware of people in my house, people who did not belong. The police."

"The what?" Narcissa questioned, speaking for the first time to the vampire she had only heard of. She knew them to be a muggle occupation of some sort but was convinced that they worked in garbage disposal.

"The police, woman! Do not interrupt!" Severus snarled at Narcissa, unable to tolerate the woman during the best of times.

He took a deep breath and glared at the table. "The house was filled with noxious fumes, designed to fill the lungs and enter the blood stream. It is a means of weakening an opponent, especially one of superior magical strength, to make the kill easier."

Andy gasped suddenly, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh no, Harry." She whispered. "You foolish child, I didn't even _think_—"

"Andromeda! What are you babbling about?"

"It was weeks ago and Molly and I didn't think anything of it though Arthur wanted to go to the ministry but I knew Harry would never agree to it…"

Severus made a threatening sound in the back of his throat and Draco gulped, leaning away from the man sitting beside him.

Andy took her turn to stare down the vampire. "A howler came and threatened Harry, blaming him for the loss of his family. We don't know who sent it."

"What happened?"

Andy narrowed her eyes in thought. "It exploded in the usual manner when it was left, untended, but it destroyed the Weasley's table and some of the sideboard."

"That wasn't a normal howler." Severus said softly, accusation running deeply in his voice.

"No." Andy agreed.

The floo flared up and Draco excused himself gratefully, checking to see, hoping to see Harry standing there.

It was Granger and Weasley. "Sorry it took so long." Granger panted, pulling a bag from her shoulder. She tossed it to Draco who caught it absentmindedly.

Weasley fussed with something else and ended up dropping it with a ringing bang.

"What is that?" Draco asked in disgust as Weasley tried to balance it in his arms with a large white book.

"Fellytone!" Weasley said proudly, trying to hold it up and almost dropping it again.

"A telephone, you incompetent—"

Draco spun around, despairing when he saw Severus standing rather closer than comfort.

"— ignoramus. There is no use for that, regardless of your intelligence, or lack thereof."

"But we need to find…" Granger started but quelled under the thunderous look on Severus's face. The two women entered the living room to see what the fuss was about.

"Oh good!" Andy said, clapping. "You brought it. I know we have a phone jack in the kitchen."

Severus stopped her with a look. "And the meaning of this is…?"

"We need to find Harry." Andy said fiercely which was dampened by her still red eyes. "We're going to call every hospital in Great Britain if needs be!"

"The boy is dead." Severus stated coldly, "or he will be soon which lands squarely on your shoulders."

"What are you talking about?" Weasley demanded. "Andy didn't do anything and if we have a chance—"

"There is no _chance_." Was ripped through Severus's clenched teeth. "He is dead or soon will be!"

"Severus, shut up!" Draco yelled, unable to take it anymore. "He isn't dead, alright. You seem to be forgetting who you're talking about. Harry doesn't die. Not even when the killing curse is cast at him."

Severus sneered. "Afraid of heart break, are you?" He stepped forward possessively. "And you seem to be forgetting, _boy_, that _Harry_ only survived all those years, all those blasted deadly adventures of his, because of me."

"Hey!" Weasley asserted, trying, and failing to understand, though by his face, he was truly starting to suspect that something was happening between his best friend and this blond ferret.

"No! Severus. You don't know. That wasn't you who saved him that night." Draco said forcefully, ignoring everyone else except for the enraged vampire.

"How would you know, pathetic little coward that you are. You were _hiding_ in the castle and the Dark Lord, minutes before he _killed_ me, told me that you had deflected." It was like a bow pulled on his bottom lip, stretching his mouth into the parody of a smile. It was more terrifying than the snarl or sneer. "Be glad you're little hero won, for you would have been worse than dead or soul deprived."

Draco gulped but stood strong and opened his mouth to form a retort.

"He's right." A lilting voice from behind Severus spoke. Narcissa stood, straight and tall, staring at Severus.

"What?" Severus asked, annoyance crossing his face at continually being argued with.

"Harry Potter did not require your assistance. He was struck by the dark lord's killing curse but did not die. Nor did he feel the pain from the subsequent torture."

He let out a laugh, cruel and terrible as anything the Dark Lord emitted. "The boy had to die, though it wasn't his body that mad man killed, it was a piece of his own soul!"

Narcissa raised a single brow, "And the pain?" she questioned.

Severus shrugged. "Perhaps he had better self control than I thought. He is still dead. And I will die too, after I find the one responsible."

He stalked out of the room and Draco could hear the door open and slam shut followed by a chocked sob from Granger and open weeping from Andy.

Draco stared at the far wall. "He's not dead. There is no way Harry would die so easily." Then he quietly retired to Harry's room and crawled into bed, lacking the energy to continue.

* * *

><p>"Yes. Yes. Thank you. I understand. Thank you." Andy pressed the phone down into the cradle and buried her face into her palms.<p>

"Aunt?"

Andy turned her head and breathed in, wiping her eyes. "Sorry, Draco." She said. "I can't find him. There are so many- so many nameless patients and none of them match Harry's description."

"Are there any other places in the muggle world we can try?" Draco asked, not even bothering to try and hide his uncertainty.

"I just don't know, dear. Hermione is looking into it."

Draco sighed and patted his aunt's hand before getting up. It was high noon and Granger and Weasley had been out all morning, trying to gather more information but without outright admitting to knowing whose house had been attacked, it was rather tricky business and something only someone truly comfortable in the muggle world would be able to accomplish.

Draco just hoped that Granger lived up to her 'know-it-all' reputation.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Thank you for your wonderful reviews! You know who you are ;). Also to everyone reading this trivial piece of merda- Thank you for driving me to keep going.

You know that feeling that your heart and lungs are being ripped out of your chest? My best friend is moving and I feel like that. Helpless, hopeless and pathetic, knowing I am too old to mourn the loss of a good friend when she is only moving a day's drive away. I dedicate this to all those who became lost when a friend moved.

Warnings: A butchery of England's geography.

.XXVII.

Day 56

July 20th

"Here you go, my dear. Drink up, nice and slow. That's it. Take a deep breath. Good, good. Alright, love. That's enough. I'll give you some more soon. Just a little at a time. That's right." The buxom dark haired nurse placed the cup of water on a tray nearby and bustled off. The dark haired boy stared at her in confusion before lying down on the uncomfortable bed. He stared at the ceiling, squinting to try and see the tile lines but his eyes were too blurry and he sighed in defeat, allowing his head to tilt and his eyes to close.

He was woken by a gentle touch on his shoulder. "Sean, welcome back. It's good to see you awake and coherent. You are coherent, aren't you?"

The boy blinked and stared up at a grey haired man with a stethoscope over one shoulder, "I suppose so. Where am I?" he asked, the small bland smile tilting his lips.

"Saint Francis Memorial Hospital. You suffered quite the accident, you know. You're a very lucky young man." The doctor pushed a button on the quietly beeping machine and then prodded a clear bag filled with some liquid and dripping into a long rubber tube. The boy followed the tube with his eyes and found the other end sticking into his arm. He lifted his arm to better look at it and touched where the material met skin.

The doctor removed his hand. "I wouldn't touch the IV too much. You'll irritate your skin."

"Oh." The boy said and put his other hand back on the bed. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Dr. Wilf Brown at your service, sir." He tipped his head in the boy's direction and picked up a clipboard. Making a quick note, he put it back at the foot of the bed then took a seat in the small plastic chair beside the bed. "You're a very special boy, aren't you, Sean?"

"Why would you say that?"

Dr. Brown cleared his throat and leaned forward.

"Slight memory loss, perhaps. Tell me, Sean. What _do_ you remember?"

The boy frowned, his eye brows pulling together as he tried to think. He remembered- nothing. Well, some flashing lights, screams a… a battle? But no, that's preposterous. There hasn't been a battle here for a long time… has there?

"I… I don't know, Sir." _Sir_. And angry instructor gripping him tightly by the collar and hauling him up to eye level. _You will address me as _Sir_ or Professor…_

The boy grimaced and rubbed his head, just above his eyes as a headache formed. The move seemed habit to him and he brought his hand down to stare at it then at the doctor. The eager look on the man's face filled the boy with such strong feelings of distrust that he automatically shook his head. "No. I don't remember anything."

The doctor leaned back, settling against the back of his chair, his face fallen in disappointment. "Ah. Perhaps it will come back to you soon. For now, I suppose I shouldn't tell you that you were brought in two days ago, early afternoon with a severe toxic fume in your lungs. We ventilated you, exporting the fumes and importing pure oxygen directly to your lungs and blood stream for the better part of six hours. The stress on your body at having such a pure form of life air may have damaged some parts of your brain."

The boy blinked in confusion. "Damaged?"

The man nodded, looking absurdly happy with himself. "The fumes would have no doubt damaged you in worse ways and I accomplished what the police have told me to do."

"The police?" The boy sat up quickly, suddenly panicked. The police, authorities charged with catching criminals and protecting the public. If they brought him in, did that mean…

That was when he noticed his left wrist handcuffed to the bed. The doctor was standing at his side, pressing down with an insistent hand but the boy still tried to struggle. "If you don't stop," the man said, "I will have to latch the other wrist as well."

A split second longer of an attempted struggle and the boy fell back in defeat. His body was weaker. Weaker than he thought was normal. He looked at the IV leading into his left arm and glared at it, wondering if it was something designed to make him weak. What the hell was happening here?

"What is going on?" the boy demanded of the doctor.

The man simply stared at the boy and said, "I was hoping you can tell me." He picked at invisible lint on his white pressed jacket. "You see, you were brought in here, like I said, two days ago. I cleared your lungs, yet you wouldn't wake. The police officer who brought you here, of all places, said that your name was Sean Halworth and that you would be taken into protective custody the moment you regain your health."

There was silence for a moment while the doctor took his stethoscope off his shoulder, peered at the end critically and breathed on it, shining the end on the sleeve of his jacket. The boy watched warily, waiting for the doctor to turn him over without knowing why.

The doctor looked up without tilting his head from the bowed position. "Which is why I kept you in a medical coma for the past thirty six hours."

"What?" The boy whispered.

The doctor sighed. "I induced a medical coma. Essentially, there is a mix of drugs, undetectably once absorbed into the system that can simulate a deep sleep or coma, allowing patients to heal without pain if need be. I put you in such a state to discover why the police would drop off a boy on my doorstep; a poor, rundown hospital with one resident doctor, myself and a staff of two nurses. They give you a false name and tell me to do whatever I can to make you better and able to recall certain recent events."

The boy stared blankly at the white expanse of the doctor's chest, another image worming its way into his mind. A tall, black man sitting and telling him how important it was that he stay in isolation, pending trial.

The doctor paid no mind to the boy's wandering thoughts. "Needless to say, I thought it quite necessary to discover for myself what happened."

A little niggle in the back of the boy's mind made him bit his lips then ask, "What's this hospital called again?"

"St. Francis Memorial."

"But that's…" the boy trailed off, surprised that he somehow knew where the hospital was located. He shook his head, trying to obtain some semblance of clarity. He had a feeling that he was no were near the place where his accident took place.

"In East Clandon, correct. I'm pleased to see that much of your memory is returning."

The boy's mind spun. "Is that...?"

"Surrey, my boy. I've already contacted Petunia and she should be here shortly."

"Petunia?"

"Your aunt, Harry. The woman you lived with for your entire life! I'm not sure she'll like me once she realizes what I've done to your brain." The doctor patted his left hand and stood. "Get some rest. We will figure out how to smuggle you out of here without the police being any wiser. Not to worry."

The boy relaxed into his pillow, trying to make sense of everything the doctor had just told him.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure?" a woman's voice spoke but the boy, <em>Harry<em>, couldn't see anything through the cloth partition shielding his bed from the rest of the room.

He blinked in confusion, looking around and dimly recognizing the muggle medical equipment. Event's came pouring in and Harry struggled, horrified to realize that _both_ his arms and legs were lashed to the bed. The twisted violently and heard the bed scrape across the floor. The partition was yanked aside.

"Harry!" a thin, ling faced woman with greying hair admonished with hands on her hips. Harry froze.

"Aunt Petunia! What on earth are you doing here?" Harry stared in shock at his aunt, his guardian for all his life. He absently noted her pursed lips, as if she had just sucked on a lemon, and repressed the urge to laugh at the fact that she could still direct that appraising look towards him as if he were a piece of rotten meat.

"Saving you, it seems." She turned to the other man. "Dr. Brown. I will take him now."

Dr. Brown cleared his throat and flexed his hands uneasily. "You see, Petunia, it's not quite that easy. The authorities were adamant on speaking to him when he woke. I have yet to enlighten them to that little fact as of yet."

"Then say he escaped." Petunia offered without apology, expecting the doctor to go along with her plans.

"Why do they want to talk to me? I don't know anything!" Harry spoke up, still shocked and unsure of how to act.

"I can't just let him escape! The officer handcuffed Harry to the bed, herself! Now she'll be back any moment!"

Petunia pursed her lips even tighter. "Did they give you any of his belongings?"

"Can you stop ignoring me please?" Harry pleaded, his blurry eyes darting back and forth between his aunt and his doctor.

"I have nothing except his clothes and shoes. They didn't even leave me with his glasses."

"What about any twigs?"

Harry's head snapped towards his aunt. 'Twigs' could only mean one thing, couldn't it?

Dr. Brown sighed and reached under the bed where a bucket filled with clothes resided. "It was just an old stick but since it was in his coat pocket…"

He pulled out Harry's wand and Harry struggled to get at it, "Give that to me!" he demanded.

Dr. Brown raised his eye brow and looked at Petunia who nodded. He hesitated a moment longer then quickly undid the strap confining Harry's right arm and Harry snatched his wand from that muggle hand, muttering and waving it at his other bindings. They fell loose directly and Harry sat, swinging his feet over and pulling out the IV in one fell swoop.

"Wait!" Dr. Brown panicked, struggling with the evidence that Harry just released himself from bonds with a simple wave of a stick. Harry watched as the doctor swallowed down his questioned visibly and said instead, "If you leave now, they will never stop looking for you!"

"I can disappear!" Harry said, desperate to leave before muggle law came down on him. "I don't know why they were the first to arrive when the smoke went off but I'm glad you helped me, Dr. Brown. It was nice seeing you again." He had shrugged the doctor off and was now struggling into his jeans and pulling his tee shirt over his head.

The doctor straightened and physically barred Harry's way. He stumbled slightly from disorientation as he stood from lying down for so long and his impaired vision that it took a moment for him to realize what the doctor was doing, even as he said, "I can't let you leave, Harry. I'm sorry. This was a really bad idea."

Harry levelled his wand at the doc. "No, it's a really _good_ idea and you will allow me and my aunt to pass."

"Harry, please. I'm sure we can figure something out. Just sit for a moment and _think_.

Harry paused for a split second and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dr. Brown. At least this will be believable." He snapped his wand to the side and the doctor went flying across the room and hit the far wall with a sickening _thunk. _Petunia released a scared little scream but Harry ignored her. Someone was bound to have heard the sound of the doctor crashing into the wall so he just grabbed Petunia's hand and pulled her out of the hospital, letting a small, side janitorial door close behind him just as the sound of running feet echoed in the hall.

He fell in behind his aunt and let her take the lead to a bright shiny car Harry dimly recognized as Vernon's company car he received a number of summers ago. He barely managed to slid into the front seat as Petunia was reeling out of the parking lot just as police cruisers rolled on to the street, missing them by mere meters.

Harry laughed, exhilarated until he looked over at his aunt. She had tears running down her face.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked gently.

"You stupid, stupid boy!" she burst out. "When he called me, I thought it was a trick. Just a clever little ploy to make us miserable! But then you- and I thought-! God Lily, I hate you so much right now!"

Harry's mouth dropped open and his eyebrows rose to his hairline. Was she… worried about him? What a strange thought. "Aunt Petunia." He said after clearing his throat. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened or why I was there. I just… I'm sorry."

She sighed, using one hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Harry tried not to stare but he could count on one hand the number of times she cried over him, and still have plenty of fingers left. "It's just my lot." She said, defeated. "It's my duty to forever care and protect you, isn't it? I'll never be free of my responsibility to my blasted sister, will I?"

"You don't have to protect me. You never had to protect me." Harry muttered, looking down. He found a hang nail on his middle finger and started picking at it, distracting him so that he didn't see the hand come flying and smack him upside the head.

"Ungrateful!" the car swerved slightly until Petunia pulled it jerkingly back on track. "I've taken better care of you than I had to! All I was supposed to do was keep you alive until you turned eleven and then during the summer holiday. I didn't have to put you through school, or give you clothes—"

"Old clothes." Harry injected.

"— but I did. You were fed—" _snort_ "— and when you were sick we always took you to the doctor."

"So Dudley wouldn't get sick and that was only _twice_! I didn't even have a dental check until Madam Pomfrey did it at Hogwarts. You put up with me because Dumbledore threatened you. Please don't try and deny it!"

Harry sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, lungs aching from pent up emotions, causing his breath to come fast and heavy, like he had just ran around the Black Lake.

He saw a movement from the corner of his eyes and turned to watch as Petunia gripped the steering wheel tightly and pulled over into a rest stop. Harry stared at the patch of farm land directly in front of him.

There was silence, for so long that Harry had almost decided to just open the door and leave. Almost.

"I don't hate you, Harry." Petunia said softly, her voice, usually shrill and impatient, was gentled with regret. "There might be bad blood between us, for a lot of reasons, but I don't hate you. I never hated you."

Harry remained silent, unsure of where this was going to lead.

"I _resented_ you." Her voice cracked, letting in the high pitched whine that was previously absent. "I couldn't help compare you to… but I knew you were different, I knew you were… abnormal so it wasn't right that I put all that pressure on Dudley to get par with your marks, or your manners, or even your athletic skill. Dudley didn't deserve to have someone like you be better than him in _anything_ let alone—"

She took a deep breath. "Vernon saw nothing wrong. He never did but I saw- I couldn't help _but_ _see_… and I didn't want to. Do you understand, Harry? I didn't want to see."

He swallowed thickly, his thoughts spinning. "So you…"

She nodded. "At first, we put both you boys into everything together. Gymnastics, swimming, even football when you were both four years old, but Duddley didn't like those things and I couldn't force him to go so I took you both out."

Pause.

"Vernon didn't understand. At first. But when you excelled and Dudley didn't… it was only fair that we…"

She wiped another stray year. "That was when we moved you to the cupboard. I don't know if you remember when you shared a room with Dudley. You were, at one point, Harry, much welcomed in our life and home until you started to outshine our son."

She finally looked at him, her blue eyes meeting his green. "I've always regretted that decision but I knew… I knew there was no going back on it."

Harry looked away first, his eyes starting to sting. "I don't remember." He said softly. "I remember little things, like that hideous jumper! But I don't remember ever being welcomed. You always hated me and let Dudley get away with whatever he wanted."

The bitterness in his tone made Petunia wince but she retained her strength and reached out a hand, softly touching Harry's messy back hair. "There are lots of things that I regret about the whole blasted situation."

She stroked lightly and Harry leaned very slightly into her touch. "Did they tell you what they did with us this past year?"

Harry answered in the negative.

"We were forbidden from working and Dudley was pulled out of school. He never graduated and will have to return next year. We were kept in a small mobile home, locked in a warehouse surrounded by your kind who were supposed to protect us. Somehow, they discovered how we had treated you…"

Harry looked up in shock at his aunt, horrified. "What happened?" he demanded instantly.

More tears, now unchecked, spilled down Petunia's face. "It would have been worse if it was the Deatheaters, right, Harry? No matter what happened, it would have been worse?"

Her voice broke off and she concealed a sob in the fist of one hand while the other tightened considerable on Harry's hair.

Something burned in Harry's chest, threatening to consume him from the inside out. Just another reason to hate the ministry.

They sat like that, Petunia sobbing into her hand, gripping Harry tightly in her other for stability and Harry staring dead ahead, unable to see very far but the clarity of his mind and the sharpness of his rage a welcomed counter to the blurriness of his vision.

It was dark by the time Petunia's eyes had dried and she began pulling out onto the road to go home.


End file.
